Into Emptiness
by Radiorox
Summary: When Mac joins the CIA in order to protect Harm, she turns into someone that operates without emotions. Can Harm save her before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

**Title: INTO EMPTINESS  
Author: Radiorox / Jackie**

**Summary: **When Mac joins the CIA in order to protect Harm, she turns into someone that operates without emotions. Can Harm rescue her before it's too late?

"_Everything will slip away  
Shattered pieces will remain  
When memories fade into emptiness  
Only time will tell it's tale, if it all has been in vain"  
Within Temptation - "Frozen"_

**Chapter 1: Sacrifice**

_There will never be an us._

Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie stood stoically at a cab stand outside of the Nuevo Simpatico hotel in Paraguay. Minutes earlier her partner, Commander Harmon Rabb Jr was at her side trying to usher her into a cab and back to the real world, back to Washington.

_There will never be an us._

Words that she'd said several minutes earlier reverberated in her head making it pound so hard that she could hear her own heartbeat. Mac's palms were sweating, her breathing grew heavier and her vision began to cloud. She felt the familiar swell of saliva in her mouth and she hurried off to an alleyway where she wretched. _What have I done?_ She thought to herself, remembering the defeated look in his eyes as the taxi had taken him away.

Mac placed a hand on the brick wall of one of the buildings, helping to steady herself as her vision continued to swim. Her head felt like it was going to explode and that is when Victor Galindez found her. "Ma'am, are you alright?"

"No." She confessed and dropped her purse on the floor as she threw up again. Gunny held her, rubbing his hands slowly on her back as she emptied the contents of her stomach onto the pavement. Once the dry heaves had stopped, he offered her a handkerchief and helped usher her out of the alley.

"Mr. Webb is waiting for you." Gunny escorted her to the waiting black suv and helped Mac inside. She was shivering although it had to be close to 100 degrees and terribly humid. He wished he had a jacket to offer the senior officer. "Are you sick, ma'am?"

Was she sick? Probably. She must be to accept CIA Director Kershaw's offer to resign her commission and join the CIA. "Not feeling particularly well, Gunny. Must be the water."

Webb's hand shook as he took her hand and squeezed gently. "What did you tell Rabb?"

_There will never be an us._

Each time the words coursed through her mind, Mac could feel the wave of nausea return. Dear God, what had she done? How could she be so cruel? "I told him we would never work out and then I put him in a cab and sent him on his way." She made her tone sound hard and authoritarian and thanked the Lord that the darkness concealed her watery eyes. Mac hadn't meant it, not one bit but, it was the only way he would return to the States and leave her and Webb behind to deal with Sadik Fahd, the terrorist that tried to kill them.

"That was a little harsh." Clay pointed out knowing full well that the pair had always been closer than they lead on. From his conversations with Mac during their ordeal in Paraguay, he knew how much she loved Harmon Rabb. It was evident during fitful sleep when she'd called out his name.

Mac shrugged. "Harm's pigheaded, he wouldn't have left me behind otherwise." He wouldn't have left her behind unless she'd hurt him. Bringing up their dance and breaking it apart had been easy, he'd left the opening the night prior with a barb about her exes. It was chaff, she knew, a way for him to mask his own pain at not being able to figure out the thing between them. Perhaps, in reference to her, he too felt dead.

It had been too easy; a shot across the bow that came out of nowhere. Maybe she had meant it; sort of. They'd been nasty to each other since he'd rescued her and when Mac had tried to figure out why he'd come looking for her, Harm had been ambiguous, as usual. Part of her knew that he loved her but, it was the insecurity that lived inside of her that doubted. She needed to hear the words and hated herself for it. There was a difference between love and being in love. And it hadn't been the first time that he'd risked his life and career to play Superman. He would have done it for anyone of their friends. Hell, he even put his life on the line, years ago, for Clayton Webb.

Mac pulled her hand out of Clay's and stared out of the window. Something about this was wrong, she could feel it in her gut. Normally she wasn't the type to make rash decisions, that was Harm's M.O. But, when Clay had mentioned that Harm would not be let back into the Navy and Kershaw was planning to use his piloting skills in the CIA, she sacrificed herself and traded her commission for his.

The alternative would have sent him to the agency and it was a trade off that Mac wasn't willing to accept. He'd risked his life to save her and now, she would save him and the career that made up so much of his life. And what a career it was, pilot, lawyer, war hero. The man was like a knight in shining armor and Mac knew that her records had enough dings that promotions would be delayed. Harm on the other hand had a future and a possible command of his own - she wouldn't let him lose that.

It was an easy proposition motivated by a certain terrorist that was still free to cause havoc - something that Mac blamed herself for. The conversation she had with Clay while they were locked in a room waiting to be tortured was overheard. She'd been careless but, in the moment when her and Clay's life hung in the balance, the facade had shattered. It wasn't difficult for Sadik to connect the dots with the help of his mole in the agency. Before she was strapped down to a torture table, he'd rattled her personal information at her as if he'd been reading her personnel file.

As the vehicle sped away from the city, Mac couldn't help but, think of the hurt that Harm must have felt. The pain that she knew she inflicted and the sorrow that numbed her senses. She felt the cold creep up her spine again and couldn't help the involuntary shiver.

She was frozen and didn't even feel when Webb draped a jacket over her shoulders. "You're doing this for him, aren't you?" Webb asked, knowing the answer. When it came to Mac, it would always be about Harm - nothing would change that. He could feel Mac distancing herself and any tender moments they could have shared crumbled before his eyes.

"Yes and he's never going to forgive me for this." She said out loud, wiping away the tear that ran down her cheek.

"Distance makes the heart grow fonder." Webb rationalized, hoping to ease the loss she felt. "You'll be away for several months, he'll forget."

Only she knew Harm and her comment was an emotional tsunami that he would not recover from. It was too much of a blow to his ego as she doubted that few women ever said 'no' to him before. _There will never be an us._ "No, he won't." She would see to it.

"Take comfort in the fact that you're saving him. Harm wouldn't last in the CIA. Emotionally, he'd be gutted. We lose a part of our souls in this job." Webb said matter of factly and then leaned back hoping the drugs that were given to him would take him into oblivion.

Gunny couldn't help but agree with Clayton Webb although he'd lost more than his soul, he lost the woman he loved. He thought about the thrill and excitement that made him want to join the agency - something he couldn't get in the Marines. There was an unpredictability and a feeling that he was truly doing something to save innocent lives. The Marines and all military in general were shackled by the chains of command while the CIA seemed to operate in grey areas. He found his talents better suited for the dark although he needed a new partner and Clayton Webb was not it. The man had an uncanny ability of getting into all sorts of trouble and this would be the third time he'd managed to save the other man's six. It was becoming an annoyance. "Ma'am, are sure about this? Once you're in, there's little chance of getting out."

"Yes, I'm sure." Only she wasn't and the one thing she desired the most was shattering to millions pieces. What she wanted most was to never lose Harm - she'd eradicated that with one sentence.

_The will never be an us._


	2. Love's Gone To Hell

**Chapter 2 - Love's Gone To Hell**

'_I see the writing on the wall  
I feel it's over and over, no  
It's when love's gone to hell"  
_Doro _\- "Love's Gone To Hell"_

Harm half expected a heroes welcome when he walked into JAG Ops but, instead, everyone around him reacted as if he'd gotten back from an average TAD. It dawned on him that it was a classified mission and not even his closest friends or the Admiral were privy to what had happened. He strolled into his office, dropped off his briefcase and then made a beeline to the break room to get a cup of coffee that he direly needed.

He'd arrived at Washington a day prior and spent most of it at Langley in the debrief from Hell - most of which consisted of the director of the CIA berating him for ever stepping foot in Paraguay. Harm had tried to defend his actions as that of a military officer searching for one of his own but, military formality did not trickle down to the CIA. They could have cared less if Mac and Webb had died out in the Chaco merely that the mission - recovering the Stinger missiles - would have been completed. Using the biplane to blow the truckload of missiles into oblivion wasn't quite in the agency's cards and the act had tipped off various cells that were operating in South America. That is why it was so easy for Sadik to get away; the cavalry had come to save him.

The whole interaction made him feel like a failure. He saved one of their agents and a Lieutenant Colonel from the Marine Corps, all he got was the third degree. He'd even destroyed a threat to US soil but, even that didn't seem good enough. Harm was at a loss and even the familiarity of the JAG office seemed foreign to him.

When he stepped into the bullpen, he found Mac's office dimmed, something that was odd at this time of the morning. Surely, she would have been back from Paraguay as well? Maybe the Admiral had granted her some richly deserved leave after the few weeks of Hell that she'd endured? Nevertheless, he felt something was off and it wasn't the sudden pang in his heart as he stopped just in front of her office.

_There will never be an us._

Harm took a deep breath and dejectedly stepped into the confines of his own office. He closed the door behind him and drew the curtains, not wanting the staff to see the anguish on his face. He made it to Paraguay and saved the girl but, that wasn't good enough. With Mac it seemed he was never good enough.

It was clearly his fault, he'd had a shot at being with her and blew it the hell out of the water during a ferry ride in Sydney. Ever since they seemed to be on an unstoppable ride with more ups and downs than a roller-coaster.

_There will never be an us._

Mac's words echoed in his mind making him feel like the fool that he was. They seemed to be on some sort of honeymoon for a while and then everything began to shatter around them. First, it was the time both of them had spent on the bench using personal knowledge of each other as ammunition. She'd tried to offer an olive branch but, his ego had taken a hit when she'd destroyed his defense strategy.

_There will never be an us._

The debacle with Singer was nothing more than a knee jerk reaction on his part. Why hand't he told Mac that the woman was involved with his brother? Shame. It was shameful to know that his younger brother would not heed his warning and wind up dating someone so disliked at JAG ops.

He hated speaking ill of the dead but, Loren Singer had not been a picnic. She would use any method to get to the top even if it meant destroying the careers of those around her. It was the sneaky, unethical ways that she conducted business that made him wonder if the woman even had a conscience. Nevertheless, his brother had become involved with the woman and the thoughts that she could be carrying a niece or nephew was horrifying.

Harm should have told Mac that he was investigating Singer, trying to figure out the paternity of the child she was carrying. Instead he'd acted like a lunatic, out of character and so out of control. He needed to thank his lucky stars that he wasn't still in the brig. But then, she hadn't come to see him either. In fact, none of his friends had, a fact that hurt more than he could comprehend. Chegwidden had ordered them to keep away in an effort to keep the heat off of his staff. Still, had it been Mac in the brig, Harm would have gone to see her. He would give up anything for her, orders be damned.

_There will never be an us._

Memories of them replayed in his mind like some sort of movie. From the beginning it was clear that they had an undeniable connection. They became friends, close friends, best friends and somewhere along the way she'd crept into the recesses of his heart. He hadn't wanted to fall in love with her, it just happened and time and time again he'd lost her to another man. It was his fault, he knew because he never quite defined his feelings for her. He always _assumed_ she knew what he felt - that she'd heard him loud and clear during her engagement party before he kissed her so passionately.

"_Mac, you have someone who will always love you."_ He said the words out loud and let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. How the hell did they get to this point? Where had he missed the signs? Wasn't she the one who flaunted her interest at him?

_There will never be an us._

"Stop it!" He said to himself and brought his hands up to his head, squeezing tightly in hopes that he would never hear that phrase again. And yet, it lived on like a bad song you just couldn't get out of your head.

_There will never be an us._

Maybe it was a form of PTSD? He thought, recalling how she'd come to his apartment the night she was leaving for Paraguay looking more attractive than a pregnant woman should. She had said something about his intentions and how he'd only state them when she was unavailable. That comment alone made him realize that she wanted something more than friendship with him. Or did she? Maybe he was losing his touch? Reading the signs all wrong?

_There will never be an us._

Considering how all consuming everything between them seemed to be, a relationship would likely be catastrophic. What was the point of pining over a woman that didn't want him? By the way she'd kissed Webb, it was clear what her intentions were.

_There will never be an us._

And the way she'd treated him, not even bothering to utter a 'thank you' after he'd saved her life. She hadn't even acknowledged him the moment he called her beautiful.

_There will never be an us._

Harm sat up straight in his chair and glanced over at a picture of the two of them taken a year prior, during their tour of Afghanistan. He had gifted her the picture and she a frame in the same size - it was one of those rare moments when they were in sync. Only they weren't rare, he just didn't want to admit to himself anymore that they had a connection unlike anything he'd ever experienced. It had been there from the start and something that Harm hadn't known he needed until she left to work at Dalton's firm. He missed her terribly then and found that there was something missing - like a part of him had been taken away.

_There will never be an us._

"Commander, the Admiral wants to see you, sir." He heard Petty Officer Jennifer Coates' bright voice call through the intercom and readied himself for the onslaught he knew was coming. The Admiral had been livid at his departure from JAG and Harm was beyond surprised that he wasn't barred access to the building for his actions. With a huff, he stood and made his way over to Chegwidden's office.

"Commander Rabb reporting as ordered, sir." When he arrived at the Admiral's office, he stood ramrod straight, waiting for call to be at ease which never came. _Here we go._ He thought to himself realizing that Chegwidden had every right to be pissed given the headaches he'd likely gotten from all of Harm's antics in the last few months. He certainly hadn't acted like an officer in the US Navy.

Admiral AJ Chegwidden had his eyes fixed on a file he was working on, pretending to ignore his junior officer, making him sweat. After several long minutes, Chegwidden looked up from the file and leveled Harm with a look that could kill. He stood, and began pacing behind his desk. "Welcome back, Commander."

"Glad to be back, sir."

"Are you planning on running off to play spook anytime soon?"

"No sir."

"Not going off to spread your wings?"

"Negative, sir."

"Not planning on alligator wrestling or crop dusting?"

"Sir?" The absurdity of his commanding officer's question made Harm wonder if Chegwidden had briefly lost his mind.

"I've had it with your antics, Rabb." Chegwidden took a deep breath and moved back behind his desk before allowing his officer to be at ease. "Take a seat."

Harm let out a breath he'd been holding and did as ordered still wondering where Mac was. "Sir, the lights in the Colonel's office weren't on when I arrived."

"No, they weren't." The Admiral said nonchalantly and began rifling through a folder on his desk. "I was informed by the SECNAV that I was not to expect Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie back at JAG ops."

"Until when, sir?"

"Indefinitely… Colonel MacKenzie resigned her commission." The words cut through him like a hot knife and Harm was sure he missed something and had to shake his head a few times to realize what he was hearing. "What in the Hell happened in Paraguay, Harm?"

"I'm not sure, Admiral." Harm leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees and threading his hands together. He seemed distraught, hurt and like his World had come off its axis. "When I got there, Mac and Webb had been taken by a terrorist named Sadik Fahd. I bumped into Gunny Galindez who helped me rescue them… Mac was tied down to a table, about to be tortured and Webb… he looked like hell. We got out of Dodge, saved the day but, the damned terrorist escaped. Next thing I know, I am on a plane back to Washington, _alone_ and Colonel MacKenzie remained behind." He left out the finer parts, the Stinger missiles, the arguments…when Mac had kissed Webb...

_There will never be an us._

"I'm under direct orders from the SECNAV to stay out of the Colonel's involvement with the agency but, if you want to look into it, _on your own time,_ I'll turn the other cheek."

"Understood, sir. But, I would just like to resume my duties here at JAG, sir." If Mac could leave him behind just like that, maybe it was time to forget her too.

Chegwidden leveled Harm with a deadly glare and the dressing down that he expected came into some fruition. "Commander, you need to thank the Colonel for still having a position here at JAG. Had she returned, I would have been forced to push your resignation through."

Harm swallowed hard at his admission. Mac was right, the Navy was the only thing he had left in his life - the only constant. "Why, sir?"

"You aren't a team player, Rabb." He said sternly and waved Harm off when he began a rebuttal. "You are completely controlled by emotions and never consider the bigger picture."

"I saved Mac's life. Had I not gone..."

"You went behind my back!" AJ yelled suddenly, standing up and slamming his hands onto the top of the desk, the sound rattling across the room and causing the baseball that Chegwidden usually had on his desk to roll off. "You never would have had to resign your commission had you leveled with me. You'd figure after the Singer fiasco you would have learned your lesson about doing things on your own. The military is a _team_, Commander - something you should know by now. I expect more out of you."

"Admiral, she would have died!"

"You don't know that. Hell, you don't know if your snooping around tipped off the wrong person, do you?"

"I.. well.." He couldn't argue that point. "I hadn't thought of that, sir."

"Well you should have." Chegwidden took a breath to calm himself, walked around the desk and snatched the baseball from the floor. "You are acquainted with Catherine Gayle are you not?"

"I am sir, she was the person that facilitated my getting intel from the CIA in order to locate the Colonel."

"She was arrested two days ago, found in possession of pure, uncut diamonds and the prime suspect in the murder of agent Van Duyn, a diamonds expert for the CIA." He took a file from the corner of his desk and handed it to Harm. "Seems like Ms. Gayle fell for one of Fahd's Lieutenants and the rest is history."

Harm leafed through the pages, stopping at one of Catherine wearing an abaya and headdress, standing next to a bearded man. The next were photos of her kissing that man and even more of her passing him a small pouch, likely filled with diamonds. He was at a loss for words, his heart sinking even more at the knowledge that he could have put Mac and Webb in danger. "She tipped them off."

Chegwidden sighed, "She did."

Dejectedly, Harm slid the file onto Chegwidden desk and settled back into the chair. His commanding officer had been right, he wasn't a team player. "Where do we go from here, Admiral?"

"You get back to work. Roberts will get you up to speed and you'll be prosecuting against Turner on a DDO case."

"And Colonel MacKenzie, sir?"

"She's not coming back, Harm. I spoke to the Colonel this morning and was told to send her personal effects to her apartment." Chegwidden stared at his senior officer, watching a myriad of emotions play on his face - hurt, anger, sadness. Yet, AJ couldn't help but see that something else had happened, something that had dropped Harm down a few pegs. He noticed it by the way Harm's shoulders slumped when he walked in.

"Did she say anything else?" He didn't want to sound too expectant but, there was still some hope that, at least, their friendship could remain intact.

_There will never be an us._

"She said she enjoyed her time at this post but, it was time for her to step away. Nothing else." No mention of her friends, her peers and although Mac had always been the squared away Marine, her voice sounded woody, unfeeling. It was like the life had been sucked out of her. '_Are you sure about this, Mac?' _He'd use her nickname, hoping to smooth whatever the hell was going on but, it was futile. "Nothing else."

"I'll pack up her office, sir." Harm offered and headed off to do just that once he was given his caseload and dismissed.

It had taken him a good hour to find the courage to enter her, now former, office. He placed a bankers box on one of her guest chairs and took in the decorations that were very much Mac. With a sigh, he settled into her chair and was instantly assaulted by a picture of the two of them - the same one he had on his own desk. "God dammit, Mac."

_There will never be an us._

Harm took the picture in his hands, studying her face as if she'd never seen her before. They went through hell during that trip and yet, together they made it through. They always made it through - until now. He held onto the frame hands twisting until the glass broke into pieces. "Fuck!"

_There will never be an us._

"I can't do this." His heart was beating as if he'd run a marathon and his head was hurting. The size of her office seemed so small, confining and a wave of vertigo nearly made him topple over as he stood. Harm gripped the side of her desk, willing his emotions under control and spotting Harriet staring at him through the blinds. With a fresh resolve, he hurried to Mac's closed door and pulled it open forcefully. "Lieutenant Sims, with me."

"Yes, s-sir." Harriet said shakily. It was rare that Harm's voice had ever been so harsh with her. The man had always been supportive, kind and something of a big brother. She loved Harm and Mac like family which is why she visibly blanched at his request.

"Pack up the Colonel's belongings." Harm shoved the box at her. "_All_ her things. Empty out every drawer and every shelf. Have a courier service get them to her apartment."

"Sir?" His request confused Harriet. "Where is Colonel MacKenzie?"

"She resigned her commission." When the woman stood there with a look of confusion, Harm forcefully shook the box to get her attention. "_Now_, Lieutenant, that's an order."

"Aye, sir."

Harm pushed past Harriet and went straight to his office, locking the door behind him and shutting the lights off. He wanted to sit in the dark, to mend his broken spirit and hope he could move on - again.

_There will never be an us._

But, Mac's words kept circling his mind like a vulture trying to peck at a dying thing. Angrily, he took the picture of the two of them and slammed it into his wastebasket. He then took a paperweight that she had given him - the one that was shaped like a plane and had his initials. That too went into the trash. He went through all of his drawers, methodically removing anything having to do with Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie.

Too bad he couldn't rip his heart out.

_There will never be an us._


	3. Prelude To Tragedy

CHAPTER 3 - Prelude To Tragedy

_That's it, I'm going to die. _Mac thought to herself as she was pushed into a tub filled with putrid smelling water. She tried holding her breath as her assailant pushed her head under but, eventually her lungs began to ache and the desperate need for oxygen had her take a breath. The water rushed into her lungs and a pain unlike anything she'd ever felt assaulted her senses. She fought to bring her head out of the water and eventually was dropped, unceremoniously, on the ground next to the tub.

Coming up onto her hands and knees, Mac felt her stomach lurch as her body threw up the water she'd ingested. Before she could get her bearings, rough hands grabbed her arms and she was back in the tub again but, this time she wasn't drowned merely thrown in another tub filled with water and ice. The frigid liquid cut into her skin like tiny knives inflicting a type of pain that Mac never thought possible. Her breath caught in her throat, lungs squeezed tightly and she could feel her already exhausted body try to slip out of consciousness.

"Keep her awake." A man spoke in a Russian accent before someone waved an acidic smelling concoxion under her nose. She took a whiff and was instantly alert enough to try and fight against the hands on her bicep and was kneed in the gut for her efforts.

"String her up." Mac's hands, that were cuffed behind her back were raised upwards.

"Ahhh!" She could feel ligaments tearing in her left shoulder as they forced her arms up and over her head. Her vision was swimming, tunneling. Wet hair was matted to her face and she deftly remembered needing to get it cut. Out of exhaustion, her head rolled back and Mac glanced up to find a thick metal block and tackle which her cuffs had been placed over. Another man, one that was called Yuri began to rachet the contraption, raising her up so that her toes barely grazed the floor.

"They say a woman's face is never so beautiful as when it is etched in pain and you, my dear, are stunning." Ilya Mikhailov, the man that she was sent to seduce stepped out of the shadows.

He stared at Mac and how her wet t-shirt clung to her like a second skin, revealing her curves and the swell of her breasts. He legs were bare and the shirt had raised to her middriff exposing the blue bikini underwear she wore. He had enjoyed her company, somewhat, up until the moment she'd decided not to sleep with him. "I never wanted a woman like I did you, Anna."

Anna? Who the hell was Anna? Oh, right, Anna Bizhan, her cover created by the CIA in order to insert Mac deep undercover in a short period of time. Anna was an Iranian-American translator working at the US Embassy in Paris. She was well dressed, sexy and played hard to get after her first encounter with Mikhailov.

It was easy to attract the man's attention especially when you rammed the front of vehicle into the back of his. "I'm sorry, my heel got stuck in the accelerator." She had said when she stepped out of her loaner wearing a classy black skirt and blouse set that accentuated her curves. "I'll pay for the damages."

"Have dinner with me instead." Ilya was instantly taken by Mac's exotic looks and stopped at nothing until she went out with him. She had refused once, twice, a third time before finally accepting his advances when he'd filled apartment with roses. Ilya stood outside her window serenading Mac along with a string quartet. It amused her the lengths some men would go to win a woman's affections.

And then there was Harm who's good looks and charm had women practically throwing themselves at him. And that is where the problems began, when Mac compared him to Ilya. As she began dating the man, her concentration seemed to waver enough that Simon Atwell, her handler at the agency had mentioned it.

Each time Ilya made to kiss her, Mac would turn away. "Not yet." She was surprised at his restraint and the way he kept after her. Sadly, she wondered why Harm hadn't done the same. He seemed so damned content to keep her at arm's length until she was out of reach. Then he would turn around and act like a jealous boyfriend.

Eventually, she allowed Ilya to kiss her and surrendered to the sensations that made her feel like a woman. She enjoyed his advances, the lavish gifts and the flowers all the while waiting for the Agency to give her final instructions.

She always kept Mikhailov at a distance, allowing him to kiss and touch just enough to leave him wanting more - wanting her. The game went on for over two months until the CIA had sent her final objective - sleep with Mikhailov in order to get access to his private office and a usb drive that held the locations of several cargo ships trafficking young women into Europe. Women that would be sold as slaves to the highest bidder.

The agency had withheld that final bit of information away from her, insisting she was sent to monitor his communication with Russia. It was when she was ordered to bed Ilya that Mac's resolve wavered.

Mikhailov had wined and dined her, played the perfect, romantic suitor and it seemed to have worked for once. Mac had been putty in his arms, a willing participant to make out with in the back of his limousine. She had slid up onto his lap and ground against him while trying to incapacitate him.

And that is where Mac had made her fatal mistake. The agency insisted on physical intimacy as a reason for her being in Mikhailov's private quarters. The man was seldom without his security detail unless he was in his room.

To the Agency, Ssex was just that, sex. It was something Mac had been lead to believe could happen without the need for attachments or messy emotions. Sex with Ilya would be nothing more than business. The man was attractive, with chiseled good looks and the charisma that could draw any woman in. It should have been simple, effortless, just an impersonal act.

An impersonal act that would turn her into a thing for the Agency - a whore.

Mac couldn't shake the nagging feeling, the thought of what Harm would think if he found out. She couldn't live with seeing the disappointment in his eyes, the anger that she'd betrayed...what exactly? They weren't a couple, never had been. What did it matter what he thought or who she fucked?

_There will never be an us_.

She had severed ties with him in the most despicable way and then sent him home, alone. Mac didn't thank him for saving her, didn't try to make him see that she loved him so much it hurt. No, she went for the jugular and couldn't shake that hurt look in his eyes.

_There will never be an us._

God, if he only knew what she had done, the sacrifice she made in order to save him. He wouldn't of understood otherwise. He would have tried to play hero again. Paraguay had been her mess, not his.

So, no. It didn't matter who she slept with or the fact that, to get through nights in Ilya's arms, she would close her eyes and pretend it was Harm. When Ilya kissed her, it was Harm's lips she imagined against her own. Harm's hands, not Ilya's that would caress her skin.

But, it did matter and as Mikhailov made to undress and have sex with Mac in the back of the limo, she acted out of fear. The ring she wore that night had a secret compartment that held a powder she needed him to breathe in.

The charming man had turned too rough. His touch on her body hurt as he squeezed her breast almost painfully. He practically tore at her dress all the while leaving the partition open so that his security detail could watch as he defiled her.

She had tried to slow him down but, it was no use. Somewhere, in the back of her mind Mac remembered his dossier and a note that he enjoyed perverse tastes. So, she snuck open the compartment in her ring and shoved it up to his nose.

Mac played the dumb female in front of the guards, asking them to help Mikhailov up to his room so that they could continue what they started. They'd been stupid enough to believe her except for Yuri. The man had never trusted her.

Once inside the room, she waited several long minutes to enter the adjacent office where she would search for the USB drive. She found it in a drawer and used her own USB drive hidden inside the tube of her lipstick to copy the files.

It was then that Yuri found her and despite Mac's attempt to feign innocence, he knew something was off. He ordered Mac to be searched and discovered the collection of gadgets masquerading as beauty products.

Moments later she would be rendered unconscious.

"I told you she was not to be trusted Ilya." Yuri spoke while keeping his eyes on Mac. "Who do you work for?"

Mac's tears of pain had clouded her vision. She could see Yuri holding some object but, couldn't figure out what it was. "I am a translator for the US Embassy. I swear it… Please let me go. Please Ilya. I'm in so much pain."

Mikhailov motioned at Yuri and turned his back as the other man stepped towards Mac with a metal pipe. Yuri wound up and slammed the pipe into her gut, just below the ribs. Her screams echoed in the room she was held in and Mac prayed someone would hear. "Please, no...I don't know anything!"

But, when she yelled out, Yuri struck again slamming the pipe into Mac's left flank. Her breath was completely sucked out of her body as she felt her ribs break. Everytime Mac thought the pain could not be worse, Yuri had tried something different, a new form of pain and torture.

He wound up once more, hitting her on the same side. Mac struggled to catch her breath and felt a tightening in her chest she had never experienced before. She couldn't breathe.

She welcomed the sensation of fainting and prayed they would not wake her from it again but, they did.

"Please stop." Her words were barely a whisper as the pain in her chest became unbearable. "Ilya, please stop this." She managed to wheeze out before passing out.

Somewhere in the darkness of her mind, Mac could hear a loud explosion, gun fire and then silence. The room was bathed in a bright, white light and she wondered if that was what death felt like.

_There will never be an us._

"I"m sorry, Harm." She whispered before darkness claimed her.


	4. One-Way Train

**Hey gang! Thank you for the ****reviews. Yep, the last chapter was a little rough. The rest is gonna be mostly angsty save for a few bumps. Trying to write as fast as possible but, work and life get in the way. **

:)

**CHAPTER 4 - One-Way Train**

Harm slid into his chair and stared out into the bullpen, noting the hustle and bustle that never ceased. There he spotted Harriet staring at him, offering a watery smile which he couldn't return. Instead, he was trying to quell the anger that was rushing through his veins daring to make his heart slam right out of his chest.

Four months had gone by and he still couldn't come to grips with the way Mac had disappeared from his life. It was as if she never existed and yet he was constantly being reminded of her.

_There will never be an us._

Harm stared down at the case file on his desk, noting her sprawling signature on the bottom of the page. It was the last case they'd worked on together when things were good between them. They had gone over the case during dinner at her place.

Afterwards, he'd helped Mac put up and decorate her Christmas tree. They laughed, shared hot cocoa and he'd left her apartment sometime after 2am. On the drive home he decided he would tell her, after Christmas, what he felt - how he loved her so much that he couldn't stop thinking about her. But, he chickened out and then the landslide began.

_There will never be an us._

What the hell had he gone to Paraguay for if he couldn't get the girl? Clearly Mac was interested in Webb if her recalled the kiss they'd shared in the hacienda. The thoughts of Mac kissing Webb or worse, sleeping with him was absolutely nauseating. Harm couldn't help the hatred that filled his mind, the want to grab the spook and rip him to shreds. The desire to grab Mac and shake some sense into her was overwhelming.

Her didn't deserve her contempt or the barbs that she'd thrown at him or the accusatory way she'd starred when he chose to table the conversation about their relationship. It wasn't the time or the place. Maybe he'd read the signs all wrong? He'd taken that kiss at the Admiral's porch years ago and ran with it trying to build a relationship off of something that would never be his. It was his fault for pushing her away in Australia and never fighting for what he desired most. Now she was gone, really gone.

_There will never be an us._

Each time the words sounded in his mind, he felt like punching something or better yet, drinking. Harm had never been the sort to drown his sorrows in alcohol but, at the moment, that's what she turned him into. Not a night had gone by when he hadn't had a glass or two of whiskey. It was the only way he could fall into a dreamless sleep.

The last few months had turned him into both a stalker and a recluse.

It began when Harm recalled that he had a copy of her apartment key - something he figured she wanted him to return. Not that Mac had actually asked him to. 17 voice messages in 4 months had gone unanswered he found when he let himself into Mac's apartment.

Out of curiosity, he had pressed the 'play' button on her answering machine to find 22 recordings, 17 were his. Harm cringed at how his voice sounded as the messages played back. The fact that it sounded like he had multiple personalities angered him. He pressed stop but, not before hearing Clay's voice reminding her of a dinner at Orsino's.

By the timestamp on the message, it was received 3 months ago and yet Harm couldn't help the murderous intent that grew inside. The more time went by, the more he hated Clayton Webb, the Agency and everything they stood for. "Bastard."

Cautiously, he made his way into Mac's bedroom, finding everything just as tidy as the rest of her home. There were no signs of her even sleeping in her own bed. It was like she never came home after Paraguay. It always amused him how such a squared away Marine could have an immaculate apartment and such a messy office.

Someone _had_ been there he deduced when walking out to the dining room finding the couriered bankers boxes sitting on top of the table. Some of the items had been placed in neat little piles and that damned picture of the two of them sat, broken frame and all, on the center of the table.

Harm wanted to take the picture and rip it to shreds but, it wasn't his. This wasn't _his_ home and it finally dawned on him that he needed to get away. Despite his anger, he needed to speak to her and get some sort of closure. He tried calling Langley but, no one knew of a Sarah MacKenzie and Clayton Webb was never available.

With a sigh, Harm turned in his chair and faced out the window. He'd woken up that morning with a feeling of dread that he couldn't quite shake. An unbearable pain on the left side of his body had inexplicably made him double over when he was standing in his kitchen making coffee. He nearly threw up from the pain until it disappeared as quickly as it began.

Something was telling him that Mac was hurt or worse. Something was telling him that he needed to set his anger aside and find her. With a huff, he came to his feet, grabbed his briefcase and made his way to the bullpen. "Harriet, if anyone calls, take messages. I'm not feeling very well."

"Get some rest, sir. You look like you need it." She'd been careful around him lately as every comment and even pleasantries seemed to make him irate. Yet, Harriet cared for him and knew he was hurting over Mac, they all were. "If you need anything, give me a call."

Harm was about to brush by her when he suddenly stopped and turned. The woman was continuously kind to him despite how he was acting. "I'm sorry for acting the way I have, Harriet. I just…"

"You don't have to explain, sir. I know." But, she didn't know, not really. Still, she wanted to help him. "The offer stands, if you need _anything_, let us know."

"I will, thank you."

An hour later, Harm sat inside his SUV parked outside of Clayton Webb's apartment in Alexandria. He glanced up at the old brownstone which was entirely too easy to find given what Clay was. Harm had decided to turn his attention away from Mac and squarely onto the man responsible for everything that had happened. He would wait forever if needed until he got the answers he was looking for.

Clayton Webb visibly cringed when the tall Navy Commander came his way. He'd been expecting a visit and was surprised it had taken Harm _this_ long. "Where is she, Webb?"

"Hey Harm. Hello to you, too." Webb tried to get past but, Harm countered his movements, blocking the way to his vehicle. "Move."

"Where the hell is she, Clay?" Harm had waited for three hours and almost left the building until the spy made his way out carrying a briefcase and wearing that familiar three piece suit that seemed to be assigned to agents with their badges.

"Who?"

Angered by Webb's game, Harm took hold of the lapels of the suit and slammed him into the nearest vehicle. "Cut the shit. Mac, where is she?"

"Her apartment probably… Will you let me go, you're making a scene." He noticed some of his neighbors peeking out of their windows, their eyes trained on the two men seemingly fighting.

Harm released his grasp and helped Webb straighten out. "She isn't at her apartment. She hasn't been there in a while."

At his comment, Webb raised his brow and glared disgustingly at Harm. "Are you stalking her?"

"I have the keys to her place." Harm said on a shrug.

"That still doesn't make it legal, Rabb."

No, it didn't and Harm swore that he wouldn't return to her apartment unless he'd been invited. "Is she working for the agency?"

"Yes."

Harm breathed a sigh of relief. At least, if she was with the CIA, she was marginally safe. She had to be safe, any other alternative he wouldn't accept. Then why did he still feel the sense of dread? The overwhelming feeling that something was wrong. "Is she okay?"

"Yes." Although Webb couldn't be sure.

"Then why do I get the feeling that something is terribly wrong?" And that had been it, the nagging feeling that had forced him to leave work. The pain on his side that had come and gone without warning. "Something's wrong, I can feel it."

"She's fine." Webb pushed past Harm and finally made it to his vehicle, tossing his briefcase inside.

"Have you talked to her?"

Webb sighed. "What do you want Harm?"

"I need to speak with her."

"Then call her." He offered, slipping into his vehicle and hoping to extract himself from this conversation.

God, if only it were that simple. "I tried, she won't answer… After Paraguay it's like I don't exist to her."

_There will never be an us._

"Then let her go."

It was a simple suggestion, one that he had been fighting with. He wanted to let her go to move on, to have a life without Sarah MacKenzie but, she was everywhere. "I can't, Clay." He held the door open when Webb made to close it forcing the spy to acknowledge him. "Is she in the States? Look, I know you went to dinner with her."

"I did. _Once._ Whatever you think is going on between Mac and me, it isn't." Webb said suddenly and with a hint of bitterness. He had wanted to be with Mac to try and make good on the promises he'd offered in the Chaco. He wanted to be everything for her, the man of her dreams but, there was just one problem. "She doesn't want me. Look, I'm late."

"Tell her to call me, please, Webb." He let go of the door and watched as Webb sped away. "Damnit." Maybe it was time to start investigating things for himself as the Admiral had suggested?

**ONE MONTH LATER.**

Mac stretched out in the hospital bed, wincing when the pain in her shoulder protested her movements. She had never known who'd rescued her only that the cavalry had made it on time before things got any worse. The thoughts of what Mikhailov's men could have done to her were never far from her mind. She knew enough about torture and had nearly experienced it first hand in Paraguay to know there were worst things out there.

Near drowning, a busted shoulder and a few broken ribs was nothing to write home about. The punctured lung on the other hand had been the worst of her injuries and required several days of intubation until she was able to breathe on her own. What she worried about the most was the repercussions she would face from the Agency. She had screwed up their mission, lost the USB drive that they so badly needed to destroy Mikhailov's little empire. It would be fodder against Russia as well, a way to reprimand them for rogue KGB agents and their nefarious dealings. She'd royal fucked up and figured that once she was better, they would toss her out on her ass.

At the very least, they had rotated her back to the States when she was stable enough for the long flight. She had been placed in a rehabilitation facility and would soon begin the tedious job of getting her shoulder to function well again. With a sigh, she stared out the window her thoughts, as usual, finding their way to Harm.

Mac stared at the phone that was sitting on the table next to her. It was daring her to call him, to just hear his voice, to beg him for forgiveness. To tell him that she loved him and always would. It was how the receiver wound up on her lap so that her good hand could dial the familiar numbers to headquarters where he would likely be. She dialed the extension to his personal line and hung up once his voicemail picked up. '_You have reached the office of Commander Harmon Rabb. Please leave your name and number and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you.' _

She held her breath at the sound of his voice and made to leave a message only to hang up when Clayton Webb appeared at her bedside. "Hey. Sorry I didn't come sooner. How you doing?" Webb placed a vase of yellow roses to which was attached a 'get well soon' balloon on the table next to her. He leaned in gave her a kiss on the cheek before settling on the guest chair adjacent to her bed.

"I feel like shit." Mac confessed with a lopsided smile that didn't really reach her eyes. Despite the treatment and the constant administration of pain medications, her body still hurt. The pain had been lessened considerably but, laying in a bed for the past two months was killing her back.

Webb sighed and took hold of her hand, squeezing gently. "You could have ridden a desk you know, there's always some job in the agency that isn't so…"

"Exciting?" She offered with a grin and rolled her eyes at the implication. Men were always trying to get women out of harm's way but, she wasn't a delicate flower. Mac was a Marine, a fighter and probably the dumbest woman alive.

Webb grinned, "We'll go with that." He sighed again and took a good look at Mac. Her eyes were sullen, skin was ashen and from what he'd read from the mission report she was nearly dead when found. He expected to see signs that she was raped and was thankful that had not occurred. A month earlier, when Harm had unexpectedly visited him, the other man had mentioned something about Mac being in danger. He scoffed at the notion until he found out how right Harm had been. "Rabb's gonna kill me when he finds out about this."

At the sound of Harm's name, Mac sat up. "No, don't tell him." She didn't want him to know about the mission or how she almost… No. Mac closed her eyes and shook her head. "He can't ever know about it."

"He's been asking about you… Hell, he waited for me outside my apartment a month ago." And Webb was very certain that Harm had been parked outside just a few days prior. He'd seen the familiar SUV which had driven off once he had stepped out of his building.

"He did? Why?"

"I know this is gonna sound crazy but, it was like he _knew_ you were in danger." At his words, he felt her pull away, hand coming out of his and those expressive brown eyes of hers glancing out the window. Clay had hit a nerve, he knew. "What happened between you two anyway?"

"Nothing and everything." Mac had often wondered how things between them would have been if they'd been lovers. Would it have fixed them and brought to completion their endless dance or would it have pulled them farther apart? Maybe she wouldn't have gone to Paraguay when it felt right to distance herself from him. They needed a little time apart to right the ship and get their friendship back on track. She got more than she bargained for.

_There will never be an us. _

"Do you love him?" Webb asked when he saw the myriad of expressions register on her beautiful face. He hated seeing her like this so distraught and confused unlike the strong, stoic Marine that she was. What he hated the most was that he'd put her in this predicament, requested her because… why, he wasn't sure. Maybe he just didn't want to be alone? Maybe he just wanted someone that he knew and not a stranger? Maybe he was falling a little bit in love with her? Maybe if he got her away from Harm long enough Mac would notice him? Maybe?

Did she love Harm? "Unfortunately."

"Don't say that. Look, I'm not gonna lie, I had hoped that you and I… that we'd…" What exactly? Fallen in love? Married and raised a family within the confines of the CIA's version of the picket white fence? Webb groaned in frustration and stood. "I know I'm not good for you. Rabb is… Well, if you like the boy-scout type, I guess. Talk to him, work it out."

"It won't work between us...We just keep hurting each other…I just..." And that was the truth. After nine years, it always circled around to the hurtful words they'd used against each other. The push and pull that manifested itself when it seemed a relationship was in sight. Didn't you always hurt the one you love? Whoever thought of that was an idiot and Mac couldn't take the pain anymore. "Tell me you didn't come here to play matchmaker. I don't wanna talk about Harm and me."

Webb knew he should push, hoping that mentioning her former partner would make the woman come to her senses. Whatever personal mission Mac was on wasn't going to end well, he knew. He just didn't want her getting hurt. "You did pretty well your first time out." He changed the subject and got a horrified expression from her. "What?"

"I failed, Clay." At least, that is the way that she saw it when she was debriefed a month prior. The agent who questioned her had been uncaring and impersonal, leaving Mac to feel like a failure.

"No, you didn't. We found the USB and Mikhailov was captured. You did your job, Mac." And nearly paid with her life for it.

Mac sighed. "I failed. I was supposed to seduce the mark, to sleep with him. Instead I was...too busy thinking about Harm." She said with disgust and brushed away the single tear that fell from her eye. "I kept wondering what he would think about me doing _that._ Seducing a man I didn't care for. When I kissed Mikhailov, I was thinking of him each and every time. It was the only way I could go through with it."

"This wasn't the way your first time out was supposed to be." Webb confessed but, he was removed from being her handler due to their personal connection after Paraguay. Kershaw had assured him she'd be well protected - he never expected this. "I'm sorry, Mac."

_There will never be an us. _

Sorry? She snorted at his words. Perhaps this was some sort of divine karma for what she'd done? The fates scoring a point for the man who she hurt? "Have you ever had to seduce anyone while on a mission?" She asked out of curiosity, assuming he would throw out the predictable 'it's classified' answer that Webb was known for.

"Yes, I have." He answered simply. "And I had to sleep with her as well. Unfortunately, I did the one thing that the agency warns us not to do: fall in love." The woman was killed for his mistake and he was reprimanded which is how he'd wound up in Paraguay, as penance.

"How do you learn that?" Mac wanted to know, to figure out how to stop her heart from aching. She wanted to stop herself from wanting Harm, from loving him.

Webb turned to Mac and slowly paced towards her. He knew what she wanted and it was something he preferred she not endure. "Training. Lots of training to close myself up and not feel emotions when I'm on assignment. The problem is that sometimes the lines blur and there is no difference between being _on_ assignment and real life."

"That doesn't sound like a good way to live."

"For us it's the only way to live."

She thought about forgetting Harm entirely, erasing him from the very fiber of her being. The thought scared her as there had been good times, more than the bad. He had saved her, protected her and she done the same for him. He was her best friend and sometimes, her only friend when the World seemed out to destroy her. How do you just erase the last nine years of your life? Was it even possible? Would she want to? "How does it work? How do I forget?"

The fact that she had asked him saddened Webb but, he knew it would protect her as well. Being a field operative meant keeping your head in the game and if she was so caught up in her emotions for Harm, she was a liability to herself. "Welcome to the Brotherhood."


	5. Gasoline

CHAPTER 5 - GASOLINE

'And all the people say

You can't wake up, this is not a dream

You're part of a machine, you are not a human being.'

"Gasoline" by Halsey

Mac hated shrinks and how they convinced you to reveal your deepest darkest secrets all the while judging you. It was SOP for field agents to visit one from time to time and after her ordeal, it was part of rehabilitation. Her biggest flaw was being former military, she wouldn't disobey an order but, merely grin and bear it while her thoughts and emotions were picked apart.

"Is there someone in your life who is special?" Dr. Claire Gutierrez was a woman seemingly in her mid to late 40s. She was still strickling beautiful with dark blond hair, blue eyes and a body that clearly stated she took care of herself. "Sarah?" Mac sardonically wondered if Harm still liked blondes.

"Someone I love? A few people I guess." Mac shrugged, not quite understanding Gutierrez's question. Bud, Harriet, their kids. There were quite a few people that she loved.

The doctor offered a soft, comforting smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Used to interrogating clients, Mac could tell the woman was irritated. "Not talking about friends. And I know you don't have a husband or children."

Mac flinched, that was a subject she didn't want to think of. Their five year deal was soon to be up and she… he… damnit. "There's a man, I guess."

"A boyfriend?" Gutierrez frowned. She had enough clearance to know what Mac's job at the agency entailed. Relationships were messy and having a loved one would complicate things, it always did. It was best to live in the shadows and remained detached.

"No… My best friend, we've just never…We've never been together." Mac shook her head. No they hadn't slept together and save for a few stolen kisses she doubted they ever would. She took a stress ball that was sitting on the table in front of her and began squeezing gently. It was painful to want someone, to love someone so much to only have them push you away. She had done the same to him, of course but, her reasons were different. Often, she wondered if Harm even loved her. "I came here to save his life, his career and I may have made a mistake." May have? Oh, she made a mistake alright and had nearly paid for it with her life.

"You gave yourself to the agency for a man you are not involved with?" Gutierrez stared at the woman before her with bewildered expression. She had heard of some crazy stories from agents before but none that were so 'romantic.' The idea was almost nauseating and still, she plastered on her fake interested face.

"For a man that I love." Mac affirmed and closed her eyes for a moment wondering if the trade off was fair to her. It wasn't but, it didn't matter, she'd do this again in a heartbeat for him.

"Do you want to stay in the agency?" It was a standard question that Dr. Gutierrez ask every agent she's ever interviewed. She needed to find what made everyone take and report back on the agents that we're losing interest in their jobs.

"I'm not sure, part of me does the other part of me can't help but remember what nearly happened to me on my first mission." She was dealing with the emotional struggle, the trauma from nearly dying. The trauma from the torture and the thoughts that it could have been worse. Thanked God things hadn't gotten worse. At the very least she wasn't raped and most of the physical scars had healed save for the surgical marks on her shoulder.

The doctor glanced at a file labeled 'classified' that she had become familiar with. It held specific details on Mac's assignment and how the man she was sent to investigate had tortured and nearly killed her. She had read worse, of course but never so early in an agent's career. "It was tough to read."

Mac glared at Gutierrez and her attempt to enter her mind, to befriend her. She knew the tactic, it was similar to ones she used when interviewing clients. "And somehow I bet you've read worse."

"Guilty."

"They trust you to deal with messy agents, when things go askew." It wasn't a question, Mac knew how they operated, Clay had offered her plenty of information when he'd visited her at the hospital. She had tried to avoid therapy, it was something she neither believed in or wanted. But, the agency would not return her to the field if she didn't spend some considerable couch time with a therapist.

"It more than went askew, Sarah." Though Gutierrez knew specific points about the case, much more than she was willing to tell Mac, she liked to probe to see what answers her subject would come up with. In dealing with Mikhailov she'd already depicted the problem and wondered if Mac had as well.

"I couldn't sleep with the subject." Mac said, staring right at the woman who glared back accusingly. "I know you have that information so I am curious why you asked."

"Some operatives try to place blame on others. Few ever take ownership when there's a mission failure. Why did it happen?"

"Because I couldn't forget him." Mac couldn't help raising her voice both out of pain and frustration. She didn't know how Harm had woven himself so fully into her life, why he affected her so much but, he did. "Why did they assign you to me?"

"I'm not just the company shrink, Sarah. I was a field agent once and I've been in your position. I know what it's like to let emotions get the best of me. So, I decided to help those like you." Gutierrez stood up and made her way around the desk, she took a seat next to Mac and placed her notepad on a small table between both chairs. "Mr. Atwell contacted me, he sees great potential in you. So, I'm going to ask you again, how badly do you want to be an agent?"

Mac stared at the older woman and furled her brow. How much did she want this? She wasn't sure but, wasn't willing to consider the trade off. She was in now for better or for worse, she was stuck. "I have my reservations about remaining an operative but, I am not leaving unless kicked out or killed and I want to protect myself against the latter."

The doctor considered the answer and grinned, damned attorneys. "I'm trained in PSYOPS and much more, specifically something called EDT - Emotional Detachment Tequique. A few decades ago an agent discovered that by the use of a passcode or a trigger, he could shut off his emotions, become someone else at will."

Her words caught Mac's attention and her defensive posture against the other woman softened. "How effective is it?"

"Depending on the subject? Very. Some agents have the ability to shut it off like a switch." Gutierrez snapped her fingers to make her point. She noticed an interest in Mac and realized the other woman was hooked. "I can make you forget about him or at least, make it easier for you to stop thinking about him."

Mac chewed on her lower lip, considering this EDT and how it would make her forget him. She wanted to forget him, didn't she? The concept saddened her. They had a lot of good times, good memories, Harm was such a fabric of her life and now she was trying to erase that. 'There will never be an us.'

She closed her eyes tightly and swallowed down the bile that had risen. This would be worse than just a few ill wished words. "How does it work?"

At her question, Gutierrez bit back a smile, she knew she'd had an interested subject. Some weren't so willing to give up so much of themselves. "You give him a different identity. When you are upset with him is there any term or words you use?"

"I don't understand."

"For instance, a parent who is upset with their child will often call that child by their full name including their middle name. That sets of a trigger which, even as adults we can identify with."

Mac understood, it was similar to when Chegwidden had reprimanded them using their full rank and last names. And that gave her an idea. "His rank, I guess. He's a Commander in the Navy."

Gutierrez smiled, Sarah seemed to be a good candidate for EDT, the military always was. They already came conditioned to obey without objections no matter how difficult the task. Hers would be an easy mind to mold. "Good, call him that. Whenever you think of him, whenever you start to feel something for him, desire, lust, a longing, try to bring up the very worst thing he's said to you and focus on that… call him by his rank."

Mac swallowed, he had hurt her a time or two but, then she'd been no picnic either. What hurt the most was when he'd picked apart her relationships and how those who she'd been involved with had died. She often wondered why he brought that up and wondered if she made him feel that way inside.

"Close your eyes, Sarah. Think of the times that he has hurt you and say his rank. Start now." Gutierrez's voice was gentle holding the subtleness of commands.

"Okay." Mac did as told, closing her eyes tightly as she began to think of him. 'What does love have to do with anything?' That had hurt, more than she would admit to herself. He was leaving, going back to a squadron as if she'd meant nothing to him. She had cried, sobbed against his shoulder and he seemed to feel nothing. "Commander."

'I'm not going there, okay? This is not a marriage. Let's get through it, we have an investigation to conduct.' That had hurt her too, his inability to trust her or allow her to voice her feelings for him. He'd ignored it, cast it aside and they'd nearly died as a result. "Commander."

Then she thought about Sydney and a conversation on the Titanic, of sorts. She had tried to figure out his interest for her and why he'd been so surly since she'd arrived in Australia. Mac had offered him her heart and he refused her. 'Location doesn't change who we are.'

"Commander." She felt a tear slip from her eye, which she brushed away angrily.

"That's natural, Sarah… You are doing well, continue." Gutierrez's gentle voice guided her again.

Dalton's death flashed behind her closed lids and that moment of weakness when she'd taken a drink and arrived at work clearly inebriated. 'You know you're not just a drunk. You're a mean drunk.' He was right in her assessment and the ugly words she'd shot at him warranted a rebuttal but, it hurt her nevertheless.

'The moment a man shows interest, you're ready.' "Commander." Mac could feel her heart twisting, hurting. Every barb that she remembered came back now, faster than she could imagine. She had repressed some of those memories, living for the good days when everything seemed to be on an even keel. 'Mac, you have someone who will always love you.'

'If you need me at your wedding to make it work, maybe you should consider who you're marrying.' The tears were falling faster now sliding down her cheeks like a cascading waterfall. Mac couldn't help the sobs or the uncontrollable ache in her chest. She pressed a hand against her heart willing the pain to subside.

"Commander." She said with a shaky breath, her chest heaving from the strain of fighting with her emotions.

"Stop fighting it, Sarah… Let go." Gutierrez's voice held a strength that Mac gripped to helping her rid the heartache.

'Look, anyone who's ever been involved with Mac is either dead or feels like they are.'

"Commander." The tears had stopped and her voice become strong, almost woody. She could feel the tension ease and start to abate. 'You can have him. I just hope, for his sake, he fares a little better than your various husbands and boyfriends.'

"Commander."

'There will never be an us.' She added that too, recalling how she'd told him with such steely determination that she nearly believed it. As each and every moment danced thought her memories she felt the desire for him replaced with anger._ 'There will never be an us.'_

Gutierrez noticed it too and smiled at how quickly her patient was picking up the exercise. As a woman, she knew how much they needed to protect themselves. "Open your eyes." When Mac did, there was something there, an indifference that hadn't been there when the session started. "We'll resume again tomorrow, you did good today."

"Thank you."

_'There will never be an us.'_

Five Months Later

Clayton Webb's Apartment

Alexandria, Virgina

"You have to stop doing this, Rabb." Clayton Webb glared at the tall Naval Officer regarding him with contempt. In the last few weeks Harm's impromptu visitations had become something of a routine and a nuisance. "Mother isn't going to be so understanding next time."

Porter Webb nearly had him kicked out of the W when Harm had impolitely barged into their weekly dinner date. "Where is she, Webb?" It was always the same question. "And stop telling me that you don't know where Mac is. If anyone can find her it's you."

"Not anymore." Webb groaned in frustration when Harm barged into his apartment and began searching for signs of her. "She isn't here! Look, I can't help you. I'm not her handler, I was reassigned months ago."

"Reassigned?" Harm believed that Webb would have done anything in his power to stay connected to Mac in some way. "Why would you be reassigned?"

"Because Paraguay was a major fuck up and I am paying the price for it, okay?" He made his way over to the bar and poured two shots of Caña handing one to Harm. "I'm being put into a special task force to find Sadik Fahd…"

Harm frowned at the name of the man that got away. He told Mac once that the terrorist would one day come after them and had forgotten until now. "Is she in the country?"

"I haven't seen her in a while. Look, she doesn't want to see you Harm. Let it go." He pushed past Harm and settled into a large, leather armchair hoping the alcohol would numb him.

"I tried letting her go. I can't. I've been pissed at her for the last few months and I just can't do it anymore." Harm downed the drink in one shot and slammed the glass down on the coffee table. He eyed the agent suspiciously. "You know something, Clay and I am not going to stop until I find out whatever it is."

Webb did know some things like the suggestion to visit a certain company shrink and the coping techniques she would be taught. Once she was fully healed from her injuries and was given her next assignment, Mac had visited Clay. He didn't like what he saw. "She's not the woman you remember...not anymore."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Mac put herself through extra training. I can't get into specifics, most of it is classified but, it changed her. She is hard, edgy, unfeeling."

Unfeeling. The word made his heart sink. "Why would she do that?"

Clay stood, walked over to his bar a refilled his glass. He was about to tread into dangerous waters and Mac would surely kill him for it. Not that it mattered, as far as he knew, she was out of the country. "She resigned her commission to protect you. SECNAV wasn't going to let you back so, she made a deal...As a result, it's easier to operate without emotions clouding your judgement."

As her friend he knew what Mac had done would come with extreme repercussions. He had warned her against EDT. She wouldn't be the same and the coping technique would stay with her for life. As a field agent, he knew it needed to be done in order to keep her alive.

Clay took the bottle of caña to Harm and refilled his drink once the other man sat there stunned and speechless. He saw a single tear fall from his eye and sighed. "Harm, let her go."

"Goddamnit, Clay. _I can't! _Especially not now. Not with what you told me."

"I know the two of you have this innate need to cover each others asses but, she's not military anymore. You start interfering, poking around and you may blow her cover." It was a warning and the tone of Webb's voice made it clear to Harm just how deep in the CIA she had been placed.

"She has to come home at some point." He would wait outside of her apartment everyday if he had to. Things were not over between them, they couldn't be.

_'There will never be an us.'_


	6. Eyes of A Stranger

CHAPTER 6 - Eyes Of A Stranger

"And I raise my head and stare  
Into the eyes of a stranger  
I've always known that the mirror never lies  
People always turn away  
From the eyes of a stranger  
Afraid to know what  
Lies behind the stare."

Queensryche - "Eyes Of A Stranger"

"That was a shit show." Mac said, sitting across from her partner in a small Italian restaurant in Toronto.

Ever since fully recovering from her ordeal with the Mikhailov she had been on the move. First, she'd been placed on assignment in Spain trying to apprehend a money launderer with ties to a terrorist cell. The mission was completed flawlessly in less than a week with no casualties. The team she was on worked well together.

Then there had been the two weeks in Russia as part of another team trying to extract six agents that were cut off and hiding in Moscow. They had gotten them all out safely due to Mac's military skills and intuition. She had put herself on the line as she killed and assassin that would have shot two of the agents.

In just a few months she'd risen up the ranks of the agency, surprising everyone who doubted. She was trusted enough to run her own operation and found herself partnered with none other than Jack Keeter who had shifted his status to field agent.

It had surprised Mac at first and, naturally, brought forth thoughts about Harm which she squashed quickly. "We don't talk anymore." She had simply told Keeter by way of explanation and her tone of voice told him not to pry further.

Normally he would have forced her to remember and dwell on her feelings for him. This time, she used her training to remain impassive and uncaring. It worked so well that even Keeter seemed bothered by her about face. She wasn't the woman he had met years prior - there was barely a shred of her left. Out in the desert some years earlier, she couldn't seem to stop talking about Harm. Now she wanted nothing to do with him. "Bring the Commander up one more time and we're through, Jack. I'll have your ass rotated Stateside in a heartbeat." She had warned and he had complied.

For her current assignment, Mac had been tasked with infiltrating the Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS) and the correlation to terrorist threats that had come from within the country. She was pretending to work as a computer analyst where, by the use of a mini USB drive hidden in a compartment of her briefcase, she would extract information from within - something that would keep her in Canada for several months to several years.

She wasn't sure when she'd return home and, frankly, she didn't care. Any contact with her friends from JAG ceased completely. Mac had stopped calling and compartmentalized the love for her friends in a neat little package that she buried deep inside. There was no point in keeping that contact alive as it brought up unnecessary emotions. Emotions would get her killed.

Even with Keeter she had tried to get him reassigned and away from her. It hadn't worked, the man was as stubborn as a mule and was very good at taking orders. Besides, she needed him as a partner to head back into the States and give the intel to their contact in Buffalo. For the agency, this was something of a black op, communique would be hand delivered for fear that someone at CSIS would discover Mac's infiltration and damage relations between the US, Canada and England.

"INTERPOL is always trying to cock block the agency. Get used to it once they smell blood they keep coming. We made a few enemies today." Jack offered on a sigh. Before partnering with Mac, he had been working side by side with an INTERPOL officer that the CIA knew was using their contacts to help an arms dealer transport weapons. The dealer had escaped justice due to a US Senator named Martin Evans that he had in his back pocket.

That same Senator was due to speak at a summit in Toronto. Much to Mac and Keeter's chagrin, they were tasked to provide security while INTERPOL had designs to take him into custody. It resulted in something of a standoff with Mac using her body to shield Evans when an INTERPOL officer was authorized to shoot. They managed to get him out and onto the private jet which waited for him at a small airport outside of Toronto.

"Fuck them. Evans might be slime but, there's no way in hell they were taking him in. INTERPOL can kiss my ass." She was still seething over the days events and prayed it wouldn't blow her cover at CSIS.

Keeter grinned, he did have to admire her work ethic. "Well, we did our job, let's celebrate." He had ordered a bottle of red wine, hoping to unwind some. It was needed after they day they had and the days to come. He poured her a glass and then filled his own, raising in a toast. "To us."

"I don't…" Mac trailed off, eyeing her glass with interest. She couldn't remember the last time a drop of wine had passed her lips and barely recalled what it tasted like. Was it sweet? Bitter? Smooth? Considering the control she had over herself these days did it sobriety matter anymore?

She was able to control her emotions flawlessly, didn't that afford her a drink or two? It wasn't vodka, her liquor of choice - one she vowed never to touch again. Wine was lighter, easier on her system, she convinced herself. It wasn't as addictive - she wasn't an alcoholic anymore.

Mac wrapped her hand around the glass and controlled the light shaking of her hand. She shoved down the one voice that warned her to stop and clinked glasses with Keeter before taking a sip. She moaned softly when the dark liquid hit the tip of her tongue assaulting her taste buds. It was slightly euphoric. She swished the wine back and forth before swallowing.

Closing her eyes she enjoyed the way it slid down her throat with ease. She welcomed the warmth of this old friend and took a bigger sip. "Mmmm… Been a while since I had wine." Mac smiled at Jack who was eyeing her curiously. He didn't know about her alcoholism - she would never tell him.

Before long, she felt the warmth coursing through her veins and a tingling in her arms.

Mac was relaxing, easing off the constant vigilance and alertness that the agency had instilled in her. It felt good, so she let Jack refill her glass.

One glass turned to three and eventually they'd gone through two bottles. 

They did nothing more than talk shop, laughing at a few mishaps that were comical in nature. Keeter recounted a few stories on the Farm and how his class had pranked the instructor.

It had been ages since she last laughed and the feelings of the alcohol induced euphoria made her glow.

"You're so damned beautiful." Keeter said and when he leaned across the table and kissed her, Mac wanted to resist but, didn't. She welcomed the other man's affections. It would hammer the final nail into the coffin that was Harmon Rabb Jr if she gave herself willingly to another man.

In her inebriated state, sex with Keeter made sense. It would be good to indulge in her carnal desires and feel like a woman who was desired and wanted. Not to say that she necessarily wanted Jack in that fashion (she thought of him more of a big brother) but, she needed the release of having her body ravaged. At least, with Keeter, she felt safe and he was probably a good lay, too.

Which is why it was easy to sensually run her hand up and down his thigh on the way to her apartment. Easy to make out with him once he slammed the car into park. She had lost all inhibitions on the elevator up when she pressed his hand to her breast. So damned easy to straddle him and kiss him with fervor when they fell onto her sofa. It was easy to lose yourself in someone you didn't really desire when alcohol was running through your veins.

Keeter had ripped open her blouse, sending buttons flying everywhere as he pressed sloppy kisses to the center of Mac's chest. As he went to cover her breast with his mouth, he heard Mac call out a name effectively ceasing all activity on his part.

"Harm..." Mac didn't catch how easily she'd called his name or how her mind made her believe it was Harm's hands sliding up her thighs and under the skirt she wore. It was soft and breathy, similar to the way her voice sounded eons ago when she would fantasize about him.

Keeter had heard it tough, loud and clear and it sobered him up almost instantly. Any alcohol induced haze was gone as if he'd never had a drpp. He stopped the woman kissing him despite the desire he had to sleep with her and the ache in the lower part of his anatomy. "Mac, stop it." He halted the movements of her hands on his chest and stood abruptly, causing her to slide off him, her butt hitting the floor.

Mac laughed at her predicament and stared up in bewilderment. Navy men were so predictable. Either that or she was like some sort of repellant that no good man ever wanted. "You flyboys are all the same, all talk no action."

"If you didn't love Harm there would be plenty of action." Keeter said, buttoning his shirt and tucking it back into his pants. He was annoyed at himself and angry at her for letting things go so far. Mac didn't want him that way, he knew it and wouldn't sleep with her just to satisfy a carnal desire.

"I don't love the Commander." Mac stood and began moving towards him with hungry eyes.

When she made to reach out for him, Keeter grabbed her arms and kept her at a distance, holding her at bay. "Bullshit, when I mentioned him I saw the look in your eyes. It's the same look you gave me back in the desert when all you did was talk about him. You're in love with Harm."

'There will never be an us.'

"I don't love the Commander." She insisted and tried to release herself from his grasp but, Keeter was much stronger.

"You're drunk."

"I know what I want."

Keeter could see something in her, a war she was battling within. He understood what she really wanted and it saddened him. "To use me to forget him? Don't do this, Mac. Don't go down that rabbit hole, you're gonna hate yourself once you come out at the other end." If it were another place, another time - if his oldest friend hadn't been in her life… Keeter just couldn't hurt Harm that way. He wouldn't let Mac either. "Sleep it off… if, in the morning, you still want me, let me know." And with that he was gone.

Mac laughed sardonically once Keeter left her apartment - yes, they were all the same - only interested in her when she wasn't available. The Commander was like that, holding his feelings at bay, playing that stupid, self-righteous, arrogant, asshole, jet jock persona for all it was worth. 'You're not just a drunk. You're a mean drunk.'

"Fuck him." She spat out and dragged herself towards the bathroom, her body wavering on the brink of passing out. Mac managed to hold it together long enough to reach the bathroom and use her hands on the sink to steady herself. She glanced up and took a long look at the mirror - something that she had refused to do since her sessions with EDT. The woman staring back at her was almost unrecognizable and all of the weakness that was in Sarah MacKenzie before her training was nearly gone.

True, her eyes were bloodshot and hazy from her drunken state but, they were also devoid of emotion - unfeeling. "There will never be an us." She stated her mantra, shaking as a familiar ache drummed at her temple, a pain that told her the training hadn't been broken. The Commander would never hurt her again. He was dead and buried along with everything else she'd compartmentalized. She didn't need or want him. "There will never be an us."

Mac's mouth began to water and she held herself together long enough to raise the seat of the toilet and throw up every last drop of alcohol she had consumed. She dropped to the floor, dizziness overwhelming her, making her current beliefs begin to waver. Her mind raced back to several minutes earlier and Jack's mouth pressed against her skin, a touch that she'd fantasized about with another man. She often wondered what kind of lover Harm would be; how his hands on her skin would….

"No, goddamnit, no!" One good cry, that was all she would afford herself - nothing more and nothing less. One good cry and then tonight would be compartmentalized as well - she was getting good at that. She curled up into a ball and began to cry, gripped with an anguished despair that Mac couldn't quite quantify. What had she done to herself? What would he think if he saw what she'd become? He'd blame himself - the man had a nasty penchant for playing the martyr.

Heavy sobs shook her body and when Mac was sure no tears were left, she collected herself, leaning her back up against the tub. She quickly ignored the thoughts of heading out into the night and finding someone to satisfy the need inside her. Any man that would share her bed and she could kick out in the morning without fear of attachment, feelings or emotions. The idea died when her headache began and the room spun. She tried to stop herself from blacking out but, it was of no use - before long Mac lay on the tiled surface of her bathroom passed out.

'There will never be an us.'

JAG HEADQUARTERS

"Objection your honor, Commander Rabb is badgering the witness!" Sturgis stood, glaring at his friend in exasperation at the lengths he would take to drill someone on the stand. It had been a year and a half since they'd last seen Mac and since then, Harm seemed to be a wreck with his emotions. They ebbed and flowed like the tides - laying somewhere between hating his former partner and anguished that they'd been apart for so long.

Sturgis knew that the crux of it all landed on one piece of information that Harm had let slip a few months ago while they'd gone drinking at McMurphy's. "I love her, Sturgis." He'd said sloppily when a few rounds of beers had progressed to several shots of whiskey. Sturgis had taken Harm home that night and found a shoebox perched on the kitchen bar that contained several pictures of he and Mac. In each one they were smiling, enjoying their time together. They seemed happy and Sturgis wondered how the hell everything between them just fell apart when they loved each other.

"Sustained… Counselors approach!" Judge Seabring glared down at Harm - finally growing tired of the man's tantrums in court. There were times where the Commander did his job with icy professionalism and others where he seemed out of control. If Sebring didn't know better, he would have figured that Harm was drunk. "Commander Rabb, what the hell are you trying to prove?"

"That the seaman was culpable, your honor. The prosecution has reason to believe that Seaman Nichols was having an affair with Ensign McNamera. He knows more than what he's saying."

"You are out of your mind. Why would an Ensign fresh out of the academy blow her career away?" Sturgis asked, shocked by information that was clearly new to him. If finally made sense why his friend had been acting so strangely. If the new information was true, they were in the middle of prosecuting a love triangle.

"It's not the first time that love has made someone do stupid things." Harm snorted, "I would know."

"Commander, I suggest you find another line of questioning."

"Understood your honor."

The men dispersed from their position in front of the bench and Harm began a slow walk towards the members. He knew he was walking a thin line but, didn't care. The next question came out without much thought. "Seaman Nichols, what spot on the carrier did you find to have a sexual encounter with the Ensign?"

"Your honor!" Sturgis stood and was waved off the moment he did.

"Mr. Rabb, I've warned you time and time again. This time, my complaint is going to your CO. I am requesting you be removed as prosecutor and demanding you seek a psych eval. I will no longer allow you to act like a cowboy in MY courtroom. Am I clear?"

"No, your honor. I am trying to get to the truth."

"And acting like a petulant child in the process." And just like that, Judge Seabring brought and end to the proceedings.

Sturgis waited for the courtroom to clear and then crossed over to his friend. "Harm, stop doing this to yourself." He made to place a hand on his friend's shoulder but, it was brushed off in anger.

"Don't… just don't."

Harm excited the courtroom and heading out to the bullpen. He stood there, dumbly looking around as if seeing it for the first time. Turning, he glanced into Mac's former office. No trace of a Marine officer lay inside merely the knick knacks of a certain submariner. Sturgis hadn't wanted to move in but, Chegwidden insisted.

Each day Harm would glance into the office hoping he'd find Mac there. At first, he tried to hate her, when calls to her cellphone and house phone were met with her answering machine. He'd gone to her apartment only to find that she'd changed the locks - his key no longer worked. Some days he would park outside of the building but, it seemed she would never go home.

After his last conversation with Webb several months ago, he decided to erase her from his life and move on. Any and all memories of Sarah MacKenzie were tossed in a shoe box and placed on the top shelf of his closet. Pictures, gifts, mementos all put aside with the intention that, someday, he would throw them away.

Except for one picture of the two of them in Afghanistan. It sat thumb nailed with a group of other JAG staff pictures on a small cork board in the break room. He'd tried to remove it but, Bud had stopped him as Mac had always been a mentor to him. Every time he went to get a cup of coffee, that damned pictures would stop him. He tried to bury it behind other messages and bulletins but, someone always moved it back up. It was just damned impossible to forget Sarah MacKenzie.

Afghanistan, he smiled sadly at the memory. They were on the same wavelength then, oceans controlled by the pull of each other. Shared dinners were common. Weekends were spent together. In a way, they were dating without dating - waiting for someone to make a move. The timing was just never right.

When he'd finally had the guts to ask her on a date, the whole debacle with Singer had happened and he wouldn't get Mac involved. And then Paraguay…. 'There will never be an us.'

Maybe the judge was right? He needed to see a shrink, get his head examined and get Mac out of his system.

As he was stuck in his reverie, Harriet had come up to him, taping Harm gently on his shoulder to get his attention. "Sir, the Admiral wants to see you ASAP."

"Thank you, Harriet." He was going to get reamed and he knew it. "Could you put these in my office?" He handed over his briefcase and cover and then headed across the bullpen waiting to face the music. This had been the third time in a month that he'd been called into Chegwidden's office for hs irate actions.

"Harm, take a seat." Rather that get the dressing down that he richly deserved, Chegwidden was taking a personal approach, calling him by his first name. That was never a good sing and Harm felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. "Is Mac…"

"Clayton Webb's been killed. He was on assignment somewhere in the Gulf on a frigate that was attacked. Mr. Webb is one of five men that drowned at sea."

"The one on CNN." It had been all over the news since the story broke overnight.

"Yes."

"How do we know this is real, Admiral? He's faked his death before."

Chegwidden took a breath. Giving bad news was never easy especially when it came down to one of their own. He often wondered if he could have done more for his staff - led them on a different path. With Gunny it was no different, he was a good man. "Galindez was with him."

"Gunny? Is he…." At the look in Chegwidden's eyes, Harm got all of the confirmation he needed. It made him feel sick to his stomach. The man was a friend and a damned good Marine - someone he would miss. "Oh no. Victor was..."

"Part of our family. Which is why I'm sending you to the Henry to bring back his remains… Webb was CIA, Gunny was not, he was on loan to them. I put in a formal request to the SECNAV to take care of our own." It was all he could to do make sure the Galindez family would find closure and heal.

Harm took a breath and swallowed down the lump on his throat. He could see unshed tears in Chegwidden's eyes that matched the same in his. Suddenly his anger towards Mac and the chaos that had become his life didn't matter anymore. He would be a man with a purpose, a guardian for a fallen comrade. "It would be an honor sir."

"Go home and pack, Commander. You leave in a few hours."

He remained silent for a while, hoping more information would come to the surface. What if Mac had been on the frigate? He would know if something happened to her, wouldn't he? Or did the last year sever whatever connection they had. "Sir, any news on the Colonel?"

"I'm assured that she's alive and working outside of the States." It was one of the first questions he'd asked the CIA once news of Webb's death had reached him. "Bring our man back, Commander. Dismissed."

"Aye aye sir." Harm came to attention and then turned on his heal to exit. When he did a n uneasy feeling came over him so he slowly turned back to his commanding officer, hoping to clarify something. "Admiral, how sure are they that Clay is dead?

"They already tacked a star to that damned wall of theirs. It's real, Commander. Porter Webb, his mother, is en-route to claim his remains." It was real, alright. Clayton Webb was dead and with him the only connection Harm and to Mac. Despite his differences with the spy, Clay was a friend - someone that had come through for them much to the detriment of his career. Harm would miss him.


	7. Imaginary

**CHAPTER 7 - Imaginary**  
_"Don't say I'm out of touch_  
_With this rampant chaos your reality_  
_I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge_  
_The nightmare I built my own world to escape"_  
_"Imaginary" By: Evanescence._

**TORONTO**

Mac was slowly walking down one of the pathways adjacent to the seasonal ice skating rink of Nathan Phillips Square in Toronto. The day was dark and gloomy, suiting her current mood as she inconspicuously scanned the square looking for her asset. She didn't know much about the man she was going to meet only that he was tall, dark and handsome - his description to her over the phone.

She wore her long, platinum blond wig, a look she didn't like but, fit her persona within the CSIS. She wore the silliest of outfits with a silver puffy jacket and dark red pants. Sunglasses that were gaudy, with fake rhinestones across the rim covered a good deal of her face. It was put together to make her look like she was trying too hard to be youthful. She took a long sip of the coffee that she bought on the walk over and grimaced - the brew was neither warm nor good and the cold had begun to seep into her, making Mac shiver.

With a huff, she stopped at one of the benches and sat, tightening her warm winter coat around her. It was cold, much too cold for her liking but, she knew this would happen if she accepted the position in Toronto. Taking a look skyward, she saw the flurries begin to fall, the news had stated that the area was in for a cold snap. Mac would have much preferred to be in the confines of her office in CSIS and the computer work she was saddled with.

Slipping her hand into her right pocket, she tightened her grip on a single tube of lipstick and the flash drive that was concealed inside. The CIA had upped her ante and rather than just spy on the members of CSIS, Mac was now to leak that information to whoever was the highest bidder. There was chatter over the grapevine of a militant group that was trying to insert itself as a big player in Canada. If they persevered, it would be yet another security issue for the States.

The group named Excalibur had already done some damage and shut down all flights out of Buffalo four days prior. Air Traffic Control went completely dark as did the the lights over the landing strip causing the pilot to misjudge the glide slope and crash the aircraft into a nearby freeway. Though there were minimal casualties, innocent lives had been lost and all agencies were working overtime to find out how security had been breached.

"I rather love gloomy days, don't you?" She turned and looked up to find an impeccably dressed man with darker skin. He sported a well trimmed beard and looked more like a GQ model than anyone she'd ever met. With a smile, he settled in next to her, extending his arm across the back of the bench before sliding closer. She figured Mr. Tall, dark and handsome had made his appearance and it was all Mac could do to not roll her eyes. "Jackie, I presume?"

The man had the most interesting eyes, one green, one brown and it was all of the confirmation she needed to know this was her asset. "You presume correctly." She fished out the lipstick tube from her pocket and eagerly pressed it into his palm. "Everything you need is on there, just unscrew the bottom." She flashed him a half grin noting that he hadn't immediately taken the object from her. "What's wrong?"

"You have two high powered rifles trained on you at the moment. You are to sit here and wait until I check the contents of the drive. If it's not what we agreed to, you'll be killed." The man stated with a dazzling smile and Mac knew he wasn't lying. She could feel the hair raise at the back of her neck as she took a long look across the square unable to spot the assassins he had mentioned. "Don't kill me. I'm just a messenger." She swallowed a few times and attempted to play the role of a scared civilian.

"You're more than a messenger. We know where you stole the information from. Stay put." He patted her leg and wrapped his hand around the tube before standing. Slowly, she watched him walk the expanse of the square and disappear into a van that drove away from the area. Great, she thought. I get to freeze my ass off.

She was able to spot Keeter who was leaning against the railings of the rink, purposely keeping his back to her and felt lucky that their faux pas from a couple of weeks ago had been mutually ignored. Alcohol had clouded her judgement and the innate desire to destroy The Commander came to the surface with such ferocity that she nearly slept with Keeter. It would have been the ultimate betrayal, she knew. The Commander would never forgive her which would make it easier to protect herself from him.

Instinctively, she knew they would meet again in the future. It was impossible for their lives not to intersect and even Clay had mentioned at time or two that The Commander was searching for her. It irritated Mac to know that he'd been in her apartment and was practically stalking her place of residence for the chance to talk to her.

The weaker version of herself would have given into him, searched him out in hopes that their friendship would be salvaged. She was better now, superior and no longer his punching bag to slew hurtful words in order to hide his insecurity. This version of herself would crush him, hurt him back and destroy his very essence.

With each thought of him, the ire had begun to rise to a fever pitch and Mac pressed her hands to her temples, massaging them roughly. The headache began, her safeguard to let her know it was time to move on from her thoughts of him. She headed the warning and concentrated on the job at hand.

"You okay?" Keeter's voice sounded over the bone conducting intercom that was hidden somewhere under her wig. Despite his friendship with The Commander, he was a good partner for her with excellent instincts.

Mac tapped her hand twice against the bench with her gloved left hand, a silent sign to let Keeter and the two other agents that were near know that she was okay. She took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to seem more concerned than she really was. These charades were pointless and she was tired of pretended to be someone she was not. If she was shot trying to protect her country, so be it. This was what she signed up for. She had no children, no husband. What did it matter if Mac MacKenzie disappeared from this World?

Nearly forty minutes passed before the mystery man returned and settled back next to her. His smile widened as he leaned in and whispered. "Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?"

"Not today… Was the information all there?"

"It was… My name is Chad, welcome to Excalibur." The man said by way of introduction before draping a hand over her shoulders. He pulled her to him, tugging her harder when Mac resisted. "You need to have dinner with me tonight. There's a restaurant at the top of the CN tower. I'll expect to see you there at 7pm, Jackie."

**USS PATRICK HENRY**

The flight on the COD had been the worst of his Naval career. Almost the very second that the plane was airborne it had run into heavy turbulence and a bumpy ride that seemed never ending. It reminded Harm of the night he ejected over the Atlantic and the rough ride that he and Skates managed to survive. He was granted a lease on life, a chance to wrong rights and yet, all it earned him was chronic back pain and a fractured heart.

Normally he would lean back and fall asleep, relax even as the plane's movements lulled him to sleep. This time, Harm was hyper alert and a little scared. He let out a deep breath when the wheels finally kissed the deck.

Harm was greeted by the public affairs officer who escorted him off the deck and into the ship. It felt good to be back at sea and he would have enjoyed it more if he wasn't given such an important task. It pained him to know that Victor had died, the man was a well liked member of JAG and someone that he considered a friend. The feeling of grief washed over him as he followed the younger officer into a ship he knew like the back of his hand.

"I got it from here, Ensign. I know my way around." He handed his belongings to the younger officer who offered to take them to his stateroom before heading up to the bridge. "Commander Rabb reporting, sir." Harm stood ramrod straight as the operations continued on around him.

From the corner of his eye he watched when an F18 went airborne followed by another as the dual catapults were in full swing. The nostalgia of flying off the deck made him wistful and she pushed the thought away and concentrated on the task at hand. He wasn't here to have fun.

"At ease, Commander." The new captain, Marcus Fischer had taken control of the Henry a week prior when Ingles had decided to retire. Scuttlebutt told him that Fischer was a hardass, a no-nonsense Captain that would not take crap from anyone much less legal weenies like Harm.

"Commander Rabb." Harm turned to find the CAG, Commander Loftness entering behind him. They shook hands and Harm smiled brightly at the man that had saved his life so many years ago. "Hammer, good to see you."

"You as well. Just hate that it's under these circumstances."

Loftness nodded in agreement. "I heard, my condolences. How you been, Harm?"

"Well, I haven't dumped anymore planes in the drink…" Harm said with a grin.

"But you did use one to play tag with a nuke." Captain Fischer interrupted the conversation and turned to face Harm. His gruff exterior gave way to a smile. "I needed to meet the man that singlehandedly saved a fleet."

That had been three years prior and Harm was surprised that anyone remembered. "Just doing my duty, sir. Others would have done the same." At least he hoped that was the case. It wasn't just the thousands of sailors he saved, Mac was on board as well as Bud and Coates.

"Your a real hero, Commander. The Navy needs a lot more men like you. You saved thousands of lives including my son's. It was his first cruise. Thank you." Fischer shook Harm's hand enthusiastically.

"Like I said, just doing my job, Skipper."

"You're having dinner with myself and a few other officers tonight. We wanna hear about your exploits direct hand."

"I would like that sir, thank you." He found that the interaction stroked his ego, something that Harm needed after the last year. It made him feel good and useful and I made him wonder what Mac would say. Back then, she had been concerned for him then although she brushed it off with their usual banter. "If I may be excused, I need to contact Admiral Chegwidden."

"Dismissed, take care of your man."

After speaking with Chegwidden, Harm was weaving through the ship and heading to vultures row. With a patch of bad weather on the horizon he would be on-board a minimum of two days, something that he would try to enjoy. Even in bad weather Harm adored being at sea, the rocking of the boat could put him to sleep faster than an medication would.

As he neared his destination, Harm slammed full on into another man, a Lieutenant, he realized when he looked down at the man's insignia. "Woah there, Lieutenant. Take it…" The words stopped completely when he stared into an eyes of a ghost. "Clay?"

Harm's eyes widened and he wondered if this was some sort of nightmare. At the very least he was delirious, losing his mind from the lack of sleep and shitty COD trip. It was when the Lieutenant spoke that Harm realized it really was Webb. "Rabb, meet me at the fantail in an hour… say nothing." Webb glanced over his shoulder nervously. "Say nothing."

Harm stared at the spy as he moved swiftly down the halls. He really did look the part of a Naval officer, even sporting the cropped haircut and the peanut butters that were impeccable. The hour was one of the longest of his life

"Were you followed?" Clay asked once Harm appeared on the fantail and closed the hatch behind him.

"No. What the hell is going on?" He found Webb not to be alone and that another man was with him. "Gunny?" Harm couldn't help the look of surprise if he tried. Victor was dressed in Naval Master Chief clothing and didn't seem too happy about it. He was thankful to see his old friend and wrapped the man in a tight hug. "The Admiral told me you had died as well, Gunny."

"Master Chief Martinez, sir… Can't say I like being a squid but, whatever keeps me above ground." The younger man smiled sheepishly at the senior officer and sighed at the harrowing experience that he and Webb had endured to survive. "You can't tell my family that I'm alive, Commander. For all intents and purposes, Mr. Webb and I are gone."

"So this business about bringing your remains home?"

"My idea." Webb said, leaning against the railing and staring out to the darkening skies. He'd been on sea duty a handful of times in his CIA career and never quite understood what the Navy liked so much about their boats. It was loud, always so loud and there was no privacy. "You're the only one I can trust, Harm. The Phonebook has been compromised." He spat out, disgusted that the agency didn't have enough safeguards in place to prevent such an atrocity.

"Phonebook?"

"The list… It has the names of every active field agent, their aliases and current assignments. It's how they found me and Vic. They knew exactly where to go." The Phonebook was the single most important database that the agency held in its possession. Whoever had copied the list held with it the lives of three dozen or so active agents across the globe. While not every agent was easy to find and assassinate, it would make the task easier and at least reduce the playing field some.

"So you came aboard an aircraft carrier to hide and who is Lt. Clark?" Harm motioned to the name on Webb's uniform.

"Dead. The real Lt Clark is dead, I used his body to fake my own death. It was the only way I could hide in plain sight...I can't trust anyone, we don't know who copied the list. It could have been an inside job."

As much as Harm hated being roped into one of Webb's schemes, he knew this was bigger than both of them. His animosity for the agent could be pushed aside for the greater good if lives would be saved. However, there was one thing he hadn't considered, another life that had been put in jeopardy which was made apparent when Webb mentioned her name. "Mac's on that list, Harm. If it's leaked, if someone starts systematically going through it, she's dead."

"So she is a field agent?" Harm suspected as much but, it was never readily confirmed. He had hoped that she was riding a desk somewhere putting her computer knowledge to good use, not putting her life at risk. Jesus Christ, just how much had he fucked things up with her that she needed to disappear from Washington in such a way? Mac knew better, she understood how the agency worked and yet, she still went to them.

For him. It pained him that she had given her life up for his and he was unable to stop it. Harm would have gladly taken her place at the agency if he would have known. He would have done anything to keep her safe. "Go to her, find her and keep her safe. If anyone can it's you. It's my damned fault she is in this mess. If I hadn't taken her to Paraguay..."

"Why did you take her? You can't expect me to believe there isn't a single, solitary female agent that speaks Farsi?" Harm placed his hands on his hips and moved closer to Webb. His heart was beating hard against his chest and all he wanted was to be off that blasted carrier and searching for her.

"Because I figured…Shit." Clay trailed off, unable to proceed with the lie he was about to feed Harm. He knew it wouldn't be believed and the murderous look that Gunny was shooting him made him fess up. "Damnit. I wanted her. I've wanted her for years but, you were always in the way. With you in the brig, I figured I could get her away from you. I would have a chance...Oof!" A second later Harm's fist connected with the side of his face, the force so strong it made him slip from the railing and hit the metal ground below.

"You fucking son of a bitch!" Harm couldn't help the rage he felt, the need to grab the spook and beat the life out of him. He grabbed Clay by his shirt and stood him up with the intention of pushing him over the railing and ending the agents life. Murderous intent took over in a way Harm had never felt before and the want to rage blindly led him. It would be easy to toss Clay over and into the wake of the ship. The screws would likely turn his body into chum and the idea pleased Harm greatly. No one would miss a dead man anyway.

"Sir, don't!" He felt Gunny grab him, pulling him away from Webb but, Harm pushed him off as well, sending Vic careening into the rear wall. "Commander! Stand down!" The command got Harm's attention and Gunny pressed a hand to Harm's shoulder and tugged the man away from Clayton Webb. "Sir, I'm not happy with him either but, if you kill him, how's that gonna help the Colonel?"

Webb brought his hands up in surrender and took two steps away from Harm. "I deserve to die for what I did but, you need me. From the ship I can log into the Agency mainframe undetected and see what I can dig up."

Harm stared at him with a murderous look, trying to calm the anger that had risen within him. It was replaced with concern for her, a woman that he would love for the rest of his life. He would find her, he always could. "Where is she?"

"Toronto."


	8. Beautiful Lie

**CHAPTER 8 - Beautiful Lie**  
_"A quiet desperation's_  
_Building higher_  
_I've got to remember this is just a game"_  
_"A Beautiful Lie" by 30 Seconds to Mars._

As Mac walked up to the entrance of Toronto's iconic CN Tower, she couldn't help but look skyward seeing the upper most part of the structure swallowed by a sea of clouds. In earlier years, she would have ventured to the touristy attraction and taken in the sights of such a beautiful city. That was when she was more human, more feeling. Now, she was basically numb inside and she much preferred it that way. Instead, she had thrown herself headfirst into work and barely left her apartment unless it was a necessity.

She enjoyed being in the arms of solitude which was broken up when Keeter would visit. Ever since nearly sleeping with him, there had been some distance and Mac found it a welcomed change. She needed a work partner not a friend and certainly not a lover - although the desire to be with someone of the opposite sex concessional stirred her basic instincts. She would brush the thoughts away and take care of her own urges.

What did love have to do with anything, anyway? Didn't the Commander tell her that once? Mac scoffed at the memory and the gentle headache that kept her in check. And why did she even think about him at that moment? Cringing, she shook her head and took a deep breath.

'There will never be an us.' Her mantra stopped the headache and Mac steeled her spine as the cold air swirled around her. The night was abnormally cold and though the limousine had dropped her off as close as possible, there was still quite some walking to do. Deep inside she knew something was going to go wrong, it was an eerie feeling she'd been plagued by the entire day and one that she couldn't shake. Mac was prepared to die but, only hoped that the CIA would stop the bastards causing so much havoc in this world. Her death need not be in vain.

Preparing for her meeting with Chad possessed several logistical problems. First, there was only two entrances and exits into the base of the tower - one for guests and a hidden one for workers. However, once inside and at its highest point where the 360 restaurant was, the only means to exit was by elevator or stairs. Mac had cringed when she brought up the tower information noting it was 144 floors or 1,776 steps. Although she was fit, very fit she was sure her cardio wouldn't hold up that long should she need to escape quickly.

Then there was also the plans to carry a weapon which would likely be seized and cause more questions. She was playing a shy computer expert and that didn't warrant carrying a gun or any type of weapon. Lastly, Keeter had begged her to wear a listening device so that if something could happen, the calvary could be called in. She had refused noting that if something did happen, she'd be dead before they even managed to reach her.

Mac took a deep breath and as she stepped into the building one of Chad's guards was waiting for her. The man was huge, clearly a bodybuilder which didn't help conceal the fact that he was carrying a weapon. The suit he was wearing was entirely too tight for his build and exposed the butt of a revolver, something that seemed out of place considering most preferred to carry a semi-automatic. He motioned towards and open elevator and Mac followed him in. Once inside, the guard pressed the stop button and ordered her to spread her legs and arms. She did as told, biting back the urge to knee the man in the groin as he took his time searching her body. It felt like forever before he pressed the elevator button and sent the cabin upwards taking a full sixty seconds to reach the top.

The guard escorted her to the 360 Restaurant which was devoid of any patrons except for several other guards, one of which took her winter coat and purse.

"Jackie, you look stunning." Chad seemed pleased by her outfit, the little black dress that clung to her tighter than Mac would have liked and dipped almost indecently low. She still sported the blonde wig, its tendrils falling just above her shoulders.

From what Keeter was able to dig up, Chad was a hacker, a very good one that had been sought after by many private firms and even the military. He never accepted a contract, preferring to work for hire and increasing his wealth exponentially. That was until his youngest sister had been kidnapped and murdered six years prior by guerrillas during a trip to Peru. She had been killed savagely and Chad had considered the United States' efforts to be sub-par. For Chad, it was too little, too late and thus began an innate hatred for his country and a want to destroy it by any means possible.

Tapping a CSIS computer geek would aid him in his endeavor as Canada would often share sensitive information with the CIA and FBI.

They settled into a booth by the panoramic windows that normally would have boasted a birds eye view of the city but, was obstructed by the clouds. It was ominous and didn't improve Mac's feelings.

Chad didn't trust her, something that she needed to remedy as soon as possible. It was the reason why he brought her to the tower as he was able to control all points of entry as well as boast his wealth.

Mac needed him liking her in order to infiltrate their little clique. The hope was to, eventually, pass along another USB drive with a hidden file that would put a tracker on their system. And then another with a worm that would debilitate his network entirely. It was risky especially considering that since their meeting at the square, Mac knew she was being followed.

"You can relax Jackie, I am not going to hurt you. I just want to be friends." He said and slipped a glass of champagne towards Mac who hastily took a sip. "It's the most expensive bottle that money can buy."

Mac nodded and closed her eyes briefly as the bubbly alcohol slid down her throat. She could control her alcoholism just like she could control her emotions, lately she'd been drinking with regularity just not to the point of a drunken stupor. Mind over matter, MacKenzie.

"This must have cost you a fortune." She motioned towards the window and looked around.

Chad merely shrugged. "I'm a computer geek who happens to have the very best computer geeks working for him. I could shut down this whole tower without much effort."

Ah, that made sense now, money wasn't a problem when you could hack your way out of things. "I gave you what you wanted. Pay me and leave me alone."

Chad slid closer to her, his arm draping over her shoulders. "I want more than what you gave me, Jackie."

It was the way that he said her fake name that made a bead of sweat drip down her spine. He was trying to seduce her if not with money then with charm. Mac could see how easy it may have been for the others in his organization to join. Chad was smart, he looked for the desperate ones like the woman she was sent to play. "What do you want?"

"You have access that I need… I won't let you go until I get it." His other hand began to run over her clavicle, fingers brushing downward to toy with the necklace she wore.

Inside, Mac was boiling with rage, fighting the urge to slam the heel of her palm straight into Chad's nose. She could kill him without much effort. She could end him with the steak knife in front of her before even one guard took a shot. Instead, she reached for the champagne and drank half of the flute in one shot. "And if I refuse?"

Chad's hand stopped and he pulled away to stare at her. "I'm not the murderous type, not that way anyhow but…" He signaled for the guard closest to him who pulled out his weapon and pressed it to Mac's head. "I have ways to force compliance."

Mac faked fear something that had abated somewhat when she realized she had not been made. "What do you want me to do?"

**Midtown Plaza**

Detective Anthony Marx was on the CIA payroll and had been for the better part of his career. He helped by being a liaison between the police and the agency making sure the later had carte blanche without police interference.

Tonight Marx was playing chaperone to one US Naval Commander who came in search of an an agent that he had one interaction with. A beautiful agent, if he recalled correctly the stunning woman that he had helped out of a bind some months ago.

Once Webb had contacted him, Marx had picked up Harm from the airport and used his resources to find Mac. "From what I know, that goon belongs to Chadwick Armstrong. He's something of a computer specialist. Why he would need that much muscle is beyond me." He told Harm as they stood near the base of the CN Tower. They had followed her there and used binoculars to see the guard that escorted her inside.

"If the CIA sent her to him, you can bet he's not just working for Microsoft." Harm braced himself against the winds that swirled around the structure. He tightened his coat around him as the cold air had seeped inside and chilled him to the bone. He glanced up at the elevators that ascended and descended, tiny blinking lights outside of the cabins made him aware of just how high the tower stood as the top disappeared into the clouds.

Mac was somewhere inside and every nerve in his body was itching to take an elevator skyward and find her. He checked his watch for the umpteenth time to find she had been in the tower for over an hour.

"Commander, look." Marx motioned towards the exit and the five figures - four men and one woman - heading towards a limousine that was waiting on the street.

Instinctively, he knew it was her. Throughout the years he had familiarized himself with her walk and her movements, the mannerisms that were unique only to Mac. He watched as she was guided by an impeccably dressed man towards the waiting limousine.

Harm was still surprised that Chegwidden had let him come without an argument. He figured their commanding officer still struggled with Paraguay as much as he did and was fighting to right the wrongs. 'Find her Harm, bring her home.' And that was what he intended to do.

Harm sat in the passenger side as Detective Marx followed Mac and the goons the short distance between the CN Tower and a nightclub called The Guvernment made up of a large warehouse that was situated adjacent to the bay. The place had a grimy, industrial feel and something about the move had him on high alert. Once they exited the sleek limo, Harm watched as Mac's date pressed his hand to the small of her back dipping down to lightly caress her six as he escorted her into the building.

Every jealous bone in his body begged him to jump out and pummel the guy into the ground, not ceasing until he was dead. It was one thing to deal with a man that she was dating - although he often fantasized about punching Mic - but, it was another thing to watch her allow this particular piece of shit touch her.

Harm knew his jealousy was unfounded, she was on assignment and, he too had flirted and seduced to get the job done, much to her chagrin. If it were any other man, she would have beaten them to a pulp. "Commander, where are you going?"

"Stay here." He said tersely to Marx and then crossed the street working the darkness of the alley beside the building to his advantage, stopping at a corner where he had a clear view of the guards. Glancing around, he found no other way to enter the establishment save for an emergency ladder straight above that he could not reach. He'd have to enter straight through the front.

"How can I get in there?" Harm asked Marx when he returned to the vehicle.

"Without causing a scene? You can't. The place has always been invitation only unless you're an attractive female." Toronto Police had long since ceased attempting to stop whatever was going on inside the building. There were concerts, parties and a night club scene that all seemed to follow the cities ordinances but, Detective Marx knew the force was paid off well to look the other way. There were other stories, one of human trafficking and a seedy sex scene where women would go in and never come back out. "Look Commander, I'm just here to help you find her. You have, my job is done."

"Help me get in." Harm persisted. "Just help me get inside and then you can crawl into whatever bottle of alcohol you live in." He could smell the familiar scent and knew it was Marx's coping mechanism.

Marx reached into his pocket and took out a stick of gum which he popped into his mouth. It wasn't his breath that gave him away, the smell of alcohol permeated his skin like a cheap cologne. He had been a good man once and now he was nothing more than a crony for whoever paid the most. "This is against my better judgement but…" The detective opened his glove compartment and produced a small .380mm pistol which he pressed into Harm's hand. "Serial number has been scratched off. It's untraceable. I'll create a diversion."

"Thank you." Harm slipped the weapon into his coat pocket before stepping out of the vehicle and walking to the end of the line that had formed outside of the venue with patrons vying to get in.

Marx drove his car down the street and made a U-Turn angling it so that he had a clear shot to speed downwards. He said a silent prayer and put the car in gear speeding down the street and crashing into a pile of trash cans that sat several feet away from the Guvernment's entrance. It sent the guards scrambling and gave Harm enough time to slip past the line and into the warehouse.

He headed in and was instantly assaulted by the rough bass of the electronic music. Cautiously, he moved forward through the long corridor lit in hues of purple and blues until he reached the main dance-floor. It took him a few seconds to get his bearings, eyes adjusting to the low lighting and lasers that pierced through a thick fog created by machines. In an effort to blend in, he made his way to the bar, ordering a bourbon and then casually leaning against the counter as he scanned the club.

Harm took a sip of his drink while his other hand slipped into the pocket of his jacket, fingers tracking the metal of the pistol. "Hey there, Handsome." He turned to the left, finding one scantily dressed blonde standing next to him practically yelling into his ear over the loud music. "Are you here alone?"

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead plastered his flyboy smile and seemed to attract the woman even more. "I am."

"Good, I'm Alicia." She placed her hand on his forearm and let her hand slide down brushing his hand on the way. "Want to dance?" Alicia motioned towards the dance-floor and then took Harm's hand and tugged him towards her clearly a little too eager to find her next client.

Harm remained still and loosened her grip. "No dancing." That didn't seem to deter Alicia who pressed herself fully against him. "Woah, you may want to take it easy."

"We have rooms, in the back. Just say the word." He ran her hands over him and Harm stopped her before they went lower and anywhere near the weapon still in his pocket. "You're so much hotter than the usual clients." Only Harm wasn't listening to her words as his eyes had managed to catch sight of a familiar figure. Alicia followed his gaze and her disappointment showed as she stepped away. "See something you like?"

"A friend. Excuse me." He placed the glass of bourbon on the bar and extracted himself from Alicia before heading across the dance floor and down a hallway that led to the bathrooms. It seemed like forever as he made his way through the throngs of patrons dancing, pulse quickening with the anticipation of seeing her again after nearly two years. He hurried down the hall stopping when she crashed into him.

Mac was leaving the ladies room when she slammed right into Harm, literally. His hands came up to her shoulders, trying to keep her body upright and not careen into the nearby wall. She glanced up and froze almost as if a ghost of her past were standing before her. In a way, that is exactly what he was to her, a ghost - not someone she had once cared for so deeply. There was something in his gaze, a concern that made her heart squeeze slightly as she stared into those once familiar eyes. "Mac." His voice was gentle and barely audible but, she knew he'd called her name and the vise squeezed a little tighter until the warnings went off.

_'There will never be an us.'_

The headaches that began whenever her training was slipping hammered at her temple the moment he touched her. It was a warning that she needed to strengthen her walls and keep her safeguards in place. Damnit, she didn't need this now when she was so close to completing her mission. He would bring her trouble, always did, the man was a magnet for it.

Chad had brought her to the club as a way to loosen her up and have a little fun. After agreeing to aid his cause, Mac had tried to extricate herself from him but, figured it would only cause the man to distrust her again. Instead, she went with and was promised a good time. She had plastered a shy smile and remained at his beck and call even allowing the man to caress her exposed thigh once she sat at a rounded booth towards the VIP section of the club. She had kissed him as well faking her enjoyment of the act when Chad tried to take it a bit too far. It was then that she excused herself hoping to put some space between them just enough to mount an exit strategy.

She didn't expect to find The Commander although now she understood the uneasy feeling that plagued her most of that day. Taking a step back, she felt his hands fall away from him and Mac resisted the urge to attack as her hands tightened into fists.

_'There will never be an us.'_

Mac let the anger wash over her the memories of the pain he had caused her in the past that made her cold and callused. Any good feelings or memories were pushed away and compartmentalized so deep within that she could barely access them anymore. The Commander was bad for her, trouble and something she needed to gut right out of her.

Harm couldn't help the surprised expression as he looked her up and down. Her hair was so blonde, almost platinum, a look he found he didn't like for her at all. Her eyes that were glaring at him weren't those beautiful brown eyes that he loved looking into so much. They were greenish, a product of contact lenses that she wore to fit whatever cover she'd been given. He hadn't intended to find her this way, the plan had been to stay in the shadows and monitor things, be her back up if needed. Eventually, he would go to her when the coast was clear.

_'There will never be an us.'_

By Mac's stunned expression and the deadly look she had given him, it was clear she wasn't happy to find him there. They had been standing in front of each other for merely a few seconds but, to her, it felt like a lifetime. Mac brushed past him uttering a steely "excuse me." His eyes followed her as she weaved past the throngs of people dancing and over to the VIP area where the impeccably dressed man sat.

Harm noticed as he tried to remain calm to the way he put an arm around her shoulder and then leaned in to press a kiss to her lips. It wasn't overly intimate and still, he felt his heart twist and an anger begin to rage inside. It was jealousy, pure and raw and bringing a murderous intent to his mind. He took a breath and then another before retreating to the men's room where he splashed water on his face in order to keep some semblance of control. That was when he heard the screams and the familiar sounds of shots being fired.


	9. I Hate Everything About You

CHAPTER 9 - I Hate Everything About You

"Excuse me." Mac's voice was icy, menacing when she tried to step away from Harm. The headache was hammering and a dull ache presided behind her eyes. She didn't dare look back at him again out of concern that it would botch her mission should he try to stop her. It wasn't real, it couldn't be and yet, when she felt his hands on her an almost familiar sensation coursed through her.

'There will never be an us.'

She managed to stymie the feeling and keep it under the tight control that she now had on her faculties. The anger she held for him built to an almost cataclysmic level. Her fingernails dug into her palm as she tightened her fists. Mac wanted so badly to physically hurt him, to end him but, that too meant losing control. The Commander was not going to get under her skin, she wouldn't let him anymore. That part of her life was gone, dead, buried and Mac remembered that she didn't need him anymore. She never needed him. He meant nothing to her.

'There will never be an us.' 'There will never be an us.' 'There will never be an us.'

Mac repeated her mantra over and over again as she weaved past the dancefloor, squeezing herself between a few patrons who made to block her path. She made it back to Chad and grabbed a hold of whatever drink he had left on the table before him. Mac tossed it back in one shot wincing when the familiar taste of vodka burned down her throat. She poured herself another shot from the bottle of Goose that sat chilling next to their table and downed it as well hoping it would ease her shaking hands.

"Looks like you came to party after all." Chad started with a grin, sensing something of a change in her. When she didn't object, Chad pulled her roughly to him kissing Mac hard and sloppily.

Mac tried to give in, to stop herself from thinking about The Commander and the way his hands on her arms felt - an electric charge that…

A noise that sounded like a large explosion echoed throughout the warehouse. It was muffled by the bass and the constant staccato of music but, Mac heard it. She knew it was a gunshot. Pulling herself away from Chad, she stood searching out through the crowd until her eyes locked a man that was standing near the stage pointing a weapon towards them. "Get down!" She yelled and then threw herself into Chad causing both of them to hit the ground hard.

"What are you...Ah!" The second shot sailed wide hitting a painting behind their booth before all hell broke loose. That sound was enough to stop the music and get the patrons running out of the club.Any and all of Chad's bravado came to a stop when the bullets began to rain down. He stared at Mac wide eyed and afraid betraying all if the strength and power he pretended to exude.

His guards were being picked apart, each one mowed down when they attempted to come to their rescue. There were a few still alive and shooting back, Mac could see as she peaked out from behind a table that had flipped over.

"Jackie we need to get out of here!" Chad yelled at her as he cowered behind the table. The man was shivering and so panicked. He watched, horrified as Mac slid across the ground over to what was left of one of his bodyguards. She flipped over the body and searched managing to score a fully loaded pistol. "What are you doing?"

"Saving your ass." She scooted slightly away from the table and opened fire, shooting two of the attackers. The wig she'd been wearing had slipped and Mac tore it off her head exposing her brown hair that was slicked back under a net and copious amounts of hairspray.

"Who are you?" Chad asked as he watched the supposedly shy CSIS employee turn into something of a skilled warrior. He had done all of his research but, clearly it wasn't enough, the woman had fooled him.

"CIA. Stay behind the fucking table." She ordered, pushing him down when the man tried to shift out of his hiding place. Mac knew the calvary would come in soon all they needed was to hold on until then. Once news of a shooting hit the police airwaves she'd get her back up.

Harm managed to make his way out of the bathrooms once the shooting started and nearly got trampled doing so. The other patrons were running away from the firefight as he made his way forward, slipping underneath the platform of the elevated stage. From his vantage he could see Chad's goons returning fire and some being killed instantly.

He counted eight men with high capacity pistols to Chad's four guards. Taking aim, with his .380, he squeezed off two rounds managing to immobilize one of the shooters. Crawling under the stage he made his way down its length, the lack of people dancing giving him a clear view of the VIP area where Mac had been.

The tables were flipped over and from behind he saw a slender figure slip out and return fire. 'Thank God.' Mac was alive although it wouldn't be for much longer. He took out the magazine counting four bullets and one in the chamber which wouldn't provide much cover. "Damnit!" He cursed under his breath and tried to find a way to get to her.

Moments later sirens began sounding outside sending some of the men scrambling including Chad's goons. "We have to get out of here. Are you shot?" Mac asked looking Chad up and down. She couldn't be questioned by the police or put her mission in jeopardy. The only viable option was to run. "Are you shot?!" She asked Chad in her drill instructor voice to find him shaking his head. "Get ready to move. In three. Two. Move!"

Mac sent him out first guiding him to the exit door that she had located upon first entering the club. Shots ran out again, less of them and it was Chad who got hit on the thigh causing him to fall steps away from the exit. "Get the fuck up, Chadwick!" She yelled, using all of her strength to get him moving again.

More shots sounded and Mac turned around long enough to see The Commander standing by the stage taking aim at the attackers. It provided her some cover, enough to get Chad moving again and out of the building.

The two shuffled down the back alley stopping a few feet away when Mac found a car. She broke the window with the butt her pistol and reached inside to open the door. "Get in."

"You don't have a key." The man said holding his injured leg and visibly shaking.

Mac rolled her eyes. "I can hotwire a car." She said and disappeared under the dash hoping to get a spark. "C'mon, spark you piece of shit!"

At that moment she'd let her guard down and didn't see the man aiming his gun right at them as the vehicle hummed to life. Chad was shot again, this time fatally and his limp body fell to the pavement below.

"Mac!" Harm had managed to follow them stepping out into the alley to find her under the dash of a beat up vehicle. When he made to walk towards her, there was a movement in the shadows, a man raising a gun to shoot. He had killed Chad and Mac was his next target.

It was almost in slow motion that he raced towards Mac, stepping in front of her without thinking. There was a quick searing pain on his right abdomen the likes of which he'd never experienced before. Instinctively, he pressed his hand against the area and then studied his fingers to find a warm sticky substance. He'd been shot.

"Well this is just great!" Mac cursed, raising her gun as she opened fire on the man that had shot The Commander. She landed a blow to his skull and then calmly slipped into the driver's seat. "Get in and close the door!" She ordered putting the car into drive once Harm did as told.

She sped through the streets of Toronto, evading police in hopes of reaching her apartment. "How bad are you hit?"

He pulled his hand off the wound and pulled his shirt up unable to gauge how far the bullet had gone. "I don't know, losing a lot of blood."

"Why is it that all you do is bring me trouble? You're a goddamned magnet for it!" Mac was yelling, slamming one first into the steering wheel. "What are you doing here, Commander?"

"I came to find you, Mac…You're in danger."

"That's only because you're here." She spat out and took a turn too fast causing Harm to fall against her. The innocent touch seemed to upset her even more. "All you do is bring me trouble. It's all you've ever done."

Harm couldn't argue with her. "You passed a hospital, Mac."

"Not going to a hospital. We won't be able to explain you getting shot and I don't need that kind of heat."

He kept his hand pressed against his side wincing each time Mac took a sharp turn or hit a bump. "Drive easy, Marine." The pain was growing exponentially as the adrenaline began to wind down. He'd never been shot before and was sure he never wanted to again. "Where are you taking me?"

Mac didn't answer simply kept staring out of the windshield. "Damnit, MacKenzie answer me!" He wanted to grab the steering wheel and pull the car over, to shake whatever took hold of her. "You're in danger, Mac… the CIA is compromised."

"You don't know a damned thing, Commander."

She brought the vehicle to a stop outside of her apartment building. "Mac, where are we?" He stared out the window to find something that reminded him of his loft back home.

"Stop with the 20 questions, Commander." She hopped out of the car and came around to the passenger side stopping with her hand on the door. Mac knew The Commander would likely need help but, she didn't want to touch him.

Just looking at him though the window was making her headache start again. "Damn you." With a huff, she pulled open the door and Harm eased out keeping a hold on his side. "Can you walk?"

"I can manage." Harm said with a nod and numbly followed her inside to the third floor where her loft was. The industrial look outside was a stark contrast to the inside, specifically her apartment with the white washed walls and impeccably polished wooden floors.

The walls were devoid of any artwork and the only signs that anyone lived there was the furniture and the clothing strewn over the couch and her bed. "Go lay down, Commander." She ordered pointing in the direction of her bed as Mac disappeared into the bathroom.

Harm did as told and began to strip out of his jacket and shirt exposing the wound. He was starting to get dizzy, the corners of his vision swimming with no means of controlling it. When she returned Mac was carrying a small black case which she propped up on the nightstand.

She produced a pair of latex gloves, slipped them on and then began pulling items out of the bag. "What are you doing?"

Mac took out a needle which she injected into a small vial. "Tending to your wound. As much as I want to kick your ass I am not gonna let you bleed to death." She plunged the needle near the wound and remained with a steely detachment when she heard him wince. "I learned a few things in the agency. Feel this?"

Harm shook his head when she poked around the wound now numb from the injection she'd given him. He watched as she worked, using some sort of metal pliers to fish inside the wound for bullet fragments. He winced again when she touched a specific spot. "Oh, suck it up Commander."

"You know what this feels like, Mac. It ain't no walk in the park." He groaned loudly when she finally pulled put the bullet and tossed it into a cup on the nightstand.

As Mac cleansed the area, her gloved hands brushed over his skin. She sighed and ignored a specific feeling, one that brought back a memory of him caring for her when she'd been shot. She smiled fondly at the memory and just as quickly the headache began. Her hands stilled, coming off of him as if she'd been burnt.

Harm noticed the change in her, the slight smile that disappeared so suddenly. "Mac."

Her name on his lips only increased the pressure of the headache making it so that Mac had to step away for a moment and regain control. 'There will never be an us.' She recited the words in her mind over and over each time bringing up the bad memories between them. The Commander was bad for her, evil and a detriment to her mission. He would destroy things; he would destroy her.

"Mac, what the hell is going on with you?" He tried to sit up, to go to her but the blood loss had taken its toll. Harm stumbled back into the bed. "Goddamnit, Marine talk to me!"

Mac whirled on him with an anger in her eyes that Harm had never seen. She pulled out another vial plunging its contents into his thigh without warning. "I have nothing to say to you, Commander."

"Stop calling me that!" He yelled at her. Christ, hadn't Webb warned him of this? Hadn't he said that Mac wasn't Mac anymore? Harm hadn't believed it, people just didn't erase themselves like a hard drive. "I have a name, dammit." They had a past, a relationship. She was his best friend. Harm knew he made his fare share of mistakes but, it didn't warrant this hostility from her, not after so many years apart. "What did they do to you?"

"They made me better. Stronger." Mac stated as she produced a thread and needle that she used to close the wound.

"Mac...I." Harm couldn't finish his statement, passed out a few seconds later.


	10. Cold

Chapter 10 - Cold

_"When you hide, hide inside that body_  
_But just remember that when I touch you_  
_The more you shake, the more you give away"_  
_"Cold (But, I'm still here)" By Evans Blue._

Mac sat on the large windowsill glancing down at the streets below. She far away at the other end of the loft. Far away from the Commander. She was trying to keep as much space as possible between them. It wasn't that she was afraid of The Commander but, she didn't feel it pertinent to be anywhere near him. The blasted headaches had died to a more manageable level the farther away she remained.

For some godforsaken reason her curiosity had piqued when she barely noticed the steady rise and fall of his chest. His breathing had slowed down some, well, too much really. With a huff she hopped off the sill and slowly made her way over to the bed.

The Commander wasn't breathing and when Mac pressed two fingers to his neck she barely found a pulse. Uncovering his body Mac saw blood leaking out of the wound and soaking into the stark white sheets beneath him. And here she thought that her sewing skills were adequate which was clearly not the case. With a frown, she covered his torso again and sat at the edge of the bed just watching him.

She likely should have called someone for help but, found no inclination to do so. Instead Mac stood beside him watching as his body gave up the fight. It eased her anxiety, took the weight of her shoulders and began to right everything that had gone wrong since they met. She felt the headache ease and dissipate as The Commander died.

Something inside considered the possibility of remorse but, Mac couldn't quite bring herself to care. She should have killed him herself in that alley or left him for dead - either option bringing a satisfied smile to her lips. With his death she was free…

...Mac instantly sprung up from her position on the sofa and from a nightmare that jarred her awake. She raced across the loft, reaching the bathroom where she emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet until there was nothing left but dry heaves. Her body shook as she righted herself and grabbed the sides of the sink for support as another wave of nausea threatened.

Her eyes came up to the mirror and a reflection of a woman that she once was, not whatever she had become. Tear stained brown eyes stared back accusingly. "Oh God. What have I done?" The veil on her mind had slipped just enough for her to feel some sort of concern for The Commander.

The Commander. He had a name didn't he? Well, of course, everyone had a name but, she couldn't recall his. Her mind began to push forward images that didn't make sense. Visions that she couldn't associate with The Commander and yet, felt so real.

He was cleaning a wound on her leg, wrapping gauze around it with such a gentle touch for a man. The vision had to be real, Mac had seen the ugly scar on her right thigh, she could feel when he touched her and cared for her. There was a vision of a dessert, a cold night and the same Commander using his body heat to keep her warm.

Then there was another image, one of him pulling her towards him as his lips crashing into hers. His hands slipping under his sports jacket that she wore to keep warm and running up and down her spine, pressing her against him. It was as if her were branding her, claiming her as his.

And he had claimed her. No man kisses a woman like that without wanting all of her. Mac pressed her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes. She could feel his demanding kiss, one that made her moan involuntarily until she kissed him back. It was over way too soon and Mac recalled a pang of regret. "It isn't real. That never happened." It wasn't real, it couldn't be. When she stared at her reflection again the headache began to pound so hard it nearly made her pass out.

'There will never be an us.' She closed her eyes and began reciting her mantra again.

The headache began stronger than ever thumping hard as all of the psychological tricks were starting to fail her. "No, Goddamnit! Snap to, Marine!" She felt something warm and sticky slide out of her left nostril. When Mac opened her eyes she saw the blood dripping down her nose and into the sink. 'There will never be an us.'

She recalled bumping into him at the warehouse and the way her skin tingled as he held her shoulders. That wasn't a vision, it had been real. Her skin was still tingling now and not even rubbing her hands up and down her arms could stop the sensation. But, Mac didn't want this. She didn't want to feel, didn't want to need. Why him? Why now?

Dr. Gutierrez had warned her about an onslaught of this magnitude but, Mac couldn't remember the tools needed to thwart the attack. She relied on her mantra reciting it over and over on a loop.

'There will never be an us.' 'There will never be an us.' 'There will never be an us.' 'There will never be an us.' 'There will never be an us.'

It helped, somewhat but Mac realized the key was to get The Commander back to Washington the moment he woke. The Commander had no business being in Toronto. The Commander would only bring her trouble which was evident at how things unfolded that evening. She took a washcloth, wet it and began to clean up her blood. "Mac?"

Through the mirror she caught The Commander's reflection. His skin had an almost ashen pallor, his hair was disheveled and his eyes had turned some sort of blueish gray. He had a hand pressed to his left flank and winced when he moved towards her out of concern that Mac was hurt.

"Don't you dare touch me, Commander!" She took a defensive stance, hands coming up in preparation to fight him if he got any closer. Her hands shook as she balled them into fists, short nails digging into her palms.

It had taken Harm something of a Herculean effort to get out of her bed. His body ached and she had attached an IV drip into his vein that he had yanked out in order to be mobile. He needed to use the head and was surprised to find Mac staring at her reflection with a rag trying to clean off the blood from her nose. His need to relieve himself disappeared when he saw the blood.

"Mac, you're bleeding." He managed to say as a sudden dizzy spell had him leaning against the wall.

Instinctively, Mac reached out to steady him only to have Harm slump against her. The physical contact was jarring but she somehow managed to put him back into her bed. "You're going to hurt yourself, Commander." She chastised while trying to find another vein to plunge the IV needle into once he was settled.

"My name… is Harm." He told her grabbing the hand that was fiddling with his vein before passing out again.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Jack Keeter was not the kind of man that shocked easily and yet seeing Harm and Mac in the same room together was both shocking and surreal. He didn't really think they'd see each other again and yet, there they were. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. "Mac? What is wrong with him?"

Mac didn't answer, simply worked on securing the IV and not damaging The Commander's veins. "What the hell happened tonight, Jack?"

"I don't know. We lost you on the way to the club, got there when the shoot out started. Our boys are dead, Mac. Both were shot." He said solemnly. They had been a four person team and now they were down to just the two of them - Jack was still trying to piece together the reason. "If you had a wire on we…"

"It wouldn't have done shit." She was now checking Harm's wound finding the bleeding had stopped. Whatever sewing she'd done to seal the wound was messy, jagged but, it held. He would always have that scar. She shrugged at her handiwork and pulled a sheet over his torso to keep him comfortable. "Chad didn't exactly tell me his next move… Who were those men?"

"They were after him, that much we know."

"Could have deduced that myself… Why?" She moved away from Harm and headed back to her perch at the window, sighing deeply when the headaches began to fade again.

"I don't know, I have my guy in the Toronto PD checking some leads." Keeter glanced over at Harm frowning at his friend's complexion. He really did not look well. "Why is he here? What happened?"

Mac sighed annoyed by the questions, "The Commander was at the club. You'd have to ask him why." She motioned towards Harm and then turned away to look out the window. There had been a vehicle circling the block earlier, one that her intuition knew would be of interest. It was gone now and she cursed inwardly.

"Maybe Langley sent him?" Out of curiosity, Keeter pulled back the sheet covering Harm. He was horrified at what he found. "He's shot."

"Nothing gets past you, huh?"

Keeter turned to Mac to find her still staring out the window. Her disinterest in his friend was beginning to worry him. He knew what she had done but, couldn't imagine Mac would be so callused against Harm. "Why didn't you take him to the hospital?" He pressed a hand to Harm's forehead finding his friend to be a tad warm. What concerned him most was the color of his skin.

"Because people would ask questions that I can't answer."

Keeter studied the wound noticing the jagged lines that made up Mac's suture and the angry skin around it. "You did this yourself?" He glanced up to find Mac nodding quietly. "Jesus Christ, Mac! We have people for this, the agency would have take care of him. He could have bled out, died."

Mac shrugged at the last word. Things may be simpler if he never was in his life. "Then it's the Commanders fault for coming here."

His face fell at her words and it fully registered that Mac was much further gone than he initially thought. That's why she had been so interested in sleeping with him, she just didn't care anymore. "God, Mac. You mean that. You want him dead, don't you?" Although he really didn't need an answer. "This isn't you. You joined the agency for him. You'd never let anything hurt Harm."

"I honestly don't care. But, since _you're_ so concerned, the Commander is now _your_ problem." She turned away from the window and moved swiftly through the loft. Mac pulled a small suitcase out of her closet and began to stuff it with various clothing including an extra wig or two. "Have you seen my boots? The one with a bit of heel?" She made it to the edge of the bed, glanced down at Harm and shook her head. "Ah. There they are."

"What are you doing?" He couldn't understand her actions, they seemed wired and out of control when Mac was anything but.

"Getting ready for work. I have an assignment to complete."

"Mac, stop." Keeter made to block her path to the bathroom but, she merely shoved him out of the way, disappeared inside, showered quickly and came out impeccably dressed and with that ridiculous wig. She grabbed the suitcase and wheeled it towards the door. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Company outing, I'm attending like we had planned." At Keeter's incredulous glare, she threw her hands up in exasperation. "This was the plan for months, I'm not going to put it on hold because of some silly little shootout...I'm getting this done so I can get the hell back to a real assignment. No more of this riding a desk bullshit."

"What about Harm?"

She chanced a glance Harm's way and rolled her eyes. "You're so worried? You handle it. Just make sure the Commander is gone when I get back." She grabbed her purse and walked to the door stopping to turn towards Keeter. "I mean it Jack, I'm coming back in a few days… I want him the fuck out of here one way or another." And with that, she was gone.


	11. Out Of Control

**Chapter 11 - Out of Control**  
"_Running through the night_

_To my master_

_With thoughts of destruction in my brains_

_Out of control_

_I can hear the warlord calling :Give your soul."_

"Out Of Control" by Warlock.

**Five Days Later.**

Keeter was getting used to picking up messes, it seemed that was exactly what the CIA had hired him for once they saw he was more than just a pilot. With Mac, work had been easy, simple. She took the lead and never really made any mistakes, keeping cool and collected.

The only time control had slipped had been that one day when they'd almost slept together after consuming too much wine. That was once and it never happened again. She had kept her emotions on a tight leash, lived for her work and was damned good at it.

Why the shootout had happened was still a mystery he was trying to unravel and the last four days had been spent babysitting one Naval Commander that was more out of consciousness than he was in. Keeter had asked Toronto Detective Anthony Marx for assistance in the form of a qualified doctor that came to check on his friend.

Marx was sitting at the table having coffee with Keeter while Dr. Emily Adler checked on her patient. She was the woman Marx went to when things went a bit sketchy, a former high school friend that he kept out of trouble in more than one occasion. Adler had arrived almost an hour after Mac had left several days prior and began to repair her handiwork, starting with opening the wound.

"She could have killed him." Dr. Adler had said to Keeter who more or less explained what had happened. The hair stood up at the back of his neck at that little piece of information. It saddened him to believe that Mac probably wouldn't care if Harm died.

He surmised that she was too far gone now and really didn't know how to get her back. Surely seeing Harm hurt would have struck a chord? Instead she was distant, uncaring and unfeeling. The look in her eyes spoke volumes and he realized it wasn't an act.

This icy persona was now all of her. Shreds of the old Sarah MacKenzie barely remained. If he was honest will himself, Mac scared him. When she was upset it seemed like she could snap at any moment and he'd be the next casualty. "Thanks, Doc." Keeter said and stepped away from the gore.

Dr. Adler had cleansed the wound, started Harm on antibiotics and made sure infection didn't set in. She hadn't asked any questions as favors for Marx were usually of the hush hush variety. She also visited daily, in the morning before her shift at a clinic and after hours.

"He's doing fine now." Dr. Adler declared, noting Harm's skin was back to normal and any infection had been staunched. "You can take the IV out once the drip is done. He's lucky it wasn't any worse." The wound was on his left flank and he was lucky it hadn't penetrated much at all or nicked anything vital.

Keeter snorted. "Luck has nothing to do with it. Harm's got more lives than a cat." And a guardian angel in the form of his father who keeps him in the land of the living, he thought ruefully. "And the wound?"

"Healed pretty much, Commander Rabb can start moving around once he wakes up." She covered up Harm's torso and made an adjustment to what was left of the IV bag.

Grabbing her things, she went over to Marx and raised his head up with her finger. "You owe me dinner and a few other things, Tony." She said cheekily and waved at Keeter as she made it out of Mac's loft.

"Tony?" Keeter said with a snort and watched as Marx blushed. There was a story there, he knew but, decided not to dive into it. "What were you able to find out?"

"Nothing. Just as quickly as the ambush happened, those responsible have disappeared." He scrubbed a hand over his face and nervously napped his foot against the hardwood floor. "Just a thought...What if they were after MacKenzie?" It was the more plausible out of all the possible scenarios. Chadwick just wasn't important enough to be attacked and killed, he may have been just a casualty of something bigger. "I've tried to get through to the agency but, ever since Webb's death, the usual suspects aren't biting. I'm practically out in the cold here."

Keeter slid a small note across the table with a phone number and a word scribbled onto it. "I was supposed to meet with my contact in Buffalo, that kinda went to shit when MacKenzie left me to deal with her little problem." He motioned to Harm and shook his head. "Here's his code name and number. I have a feeling something big is going on."

Marx took the paper and finished off what was left of his coffee. He needed something stronger but, the itch would just have to wait until he made it to Buffalo. "I'll get in contact with you as soon as I hear something." Casting a glance towards Harm, he frowned. "Rabb seemed real anxious to see MacKenzie."

"They have a history." It was a simple truth that was likely much more convoluted than Keeter could imagine. He hadn't really spoken to Harm or Mac in years and his partner hadn't been forthcoming with any information. In fact, just bringing up Harm's name had brought up a hostility in Mac that was irrational.

Marx snorted, "_History_, huh?" He said with air quotes and received an annoyed glare from Keeter. "Lucky bastard to have any kind of history with her." With that, the detective stood. "I'll contact you as soon as I can."

**Montreal, Canada**

Mac pressed herself against the stone walls of the lavish mansion that made up the summer home of CSIS' Minister of Public Safety, Marguerite Cloutier. She used the darkness and the shadows to move across the expansive estate.

The home itself was built like a castle, the product of old money and lavish tastes. It seemed more like a 500 year old Chateau in the French countryside with a well manicured lawn and intricate gardens that circled around a massive fountain.

From the moment Mac began spying on CSIS, there had been talks of visiting Cloutier's estate and the over the top parties for select members just to show off.

Pulling out a small map, she studied the plans for the home that the CIA had dug up months earlier, specifically a small room in the guest house adjacent to a library, a panic room with a hidden latch where it was thought that Cloutier held certain information.

Within the months that Mac had been stationed at CSIS, she had scoured the whole building including Cloutier's office finding that nothing much was out of the ordinary. Part of her assignment had been to take information from CSIS for the CIA to analyze but, as the months trickled on, chatter came over the lines and a photo emerged of Cloutier having an affair with a former Russian liaison.

The CIA was on high alert and concerns that Cloutier could be leaking information became a priority along with infiltrating Chadwick's now defunct group. She suspected the two were linked, despite the money that Chad had attained, Mac highly doubted that he conducted his business without outside help.

Mac pulled a small Maglite from a pouch at her hip and turned it on, holding it steady in her mouth as she set to work on opening a window on the ground floor of the guesthouse. She did so effortlessly and then disabled the alarm sensor.

She squeezed through the window and lowered herself into a crouching position, pressing her back against the wall as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Mac remained silent for several long minutes listening for anyone that may be inside the guesthouse. Satisfied that she was alone, Mac stood and turned her flashlight back on so that it emitted a red light. She used it to find her way around as she moved down the hallway to the library.

Mac pressed her fingers to a specific spot on a wooden frame hearing a lock disengage and a shelving system crack open. Inside, an overhead lamp flickered a few times before emanating a luminescent glow that bathed the 12x12 room in light.

One wall was lined full of monitors that alternated images of the mansion and its grounds. She stared at them for a moment, noting that the only guards were at the front of the property inside a guard shack. Satisfied that no one would suddenly sneak up on her, Mac turned away from the monitors to a laptop which sat atop a small desk. _This is too easy._ She thought to herself after firing up the machine and copying all of its files to USB drive.

Just in case, she moved through the small space, checking every crevice and corner finding only survival items like a first aid kit, food, water and blankets. There was something odd about the flooring, a bowing when she walked over that had Mac pull back a rug to find a trap door. She pulled at the latch and once it opened, pulled at a metal door that opened a compartment.

From inside Mac pulled out a metal briefcase that was locked. It took several tries but, Mac managed to pick at it, opening the case to find wads of cash in different currencies along with passports to match the currency. Each had pictures of the same man. Not just any man, Mac deduced, it was the Russian she had seen in the pictures with Cloutier.

She also found another, larger briefcase inside which were various vials with a liquid, orange substance. Grabbing a small digital camera, Mac took snapshots of each case and then carefully placed them back in their hiding spot.

The lack of security made it easy for Mac to slip out of the guesthouse and back to the main mansion. Once she was back in her room, she fired up her laptop and plugged in the USB to see the files she had copied. To the untrained eye, the drive had nothing but junk, family photos, bookmarks of web pages with favorite recipes, music and movies.

It was the junk folder where the goods were and Mac was able to pull up blueprints for several US interests in Canada including the Consulate in Toronto and the Embassy in Ottawa.

There were folders for the US personnel in each location along with pictures, addresses, bank accounts, birth dates and phone numbers. Troubling was the fact that some of the folders had pictures of spouses and children. "Shit." Mac said out loud when she opened a final folder one with information on nuclear power plants in both the US and Canada.

She needed to get back to Toronto ASAP.

**Mac's Loft  
Toronto, Canada**

"So, what the hell are you doing here, Keeter?" Harm asked once he was awake for longer than a few minutes at a time. Adler's IV cocktail had kept him asleep for most days. He was now seated on the sofa hungrily devouring most of the pizza that Jack had ordered for them.

Harm discussed the Phonebook with Jack and what little bits and pieces of information he got from Clayton Webb. He let his friend know that the spy was still alive although he did not delve into Webb's whereabouts or his plans to stay in contact through Marx. It bothered him to see Keeter so unfazed about the news and suspected they were prepared for something like this.

"I think Webb made sure she was working with me as a way to keep Mac safe. She's had a few close calls though, she hasn't exactly gone into many details. I hate to say that this kinda thing suits her." Keeter said with a rueful expression as he made his way through a bowl full of chicken wings making Harm cringe when he dipped each wing more buffalo sauce.

"She's resourceful, smart." And was usually the easier of the two to slip into a cover. Mac had a knack for it and Harm suspected it was a sort of artform, the facade she wore to fit in to society in order to hide her past. But, this was more than just an act and Harm knew it. There was a tension between them at the club, an icines to her tone as she excused herself. And her eyes, they couldn't hide her anger at seeing him there.

Harm had hoped that it was the shock at seeing him after over a year apart but, he knew something was off. He could feel it and the thought of Mac joining the 'darkside' scared him. The way she treated him days prior when he found her in the bathroom bleeding was troubling. She had taken a defensive posture and Harm knew she would have lashed out.

It was still Mac but, it was as if a different version of her, someone who had shut down to do her job. He had seen parts of that woman in the past when she tried to shut her emotions off to get through a case.

"Mac seems a bit...distant." This time, it was like it consumed her and the idea troubled him. Maybe Webb had been right when he warned Harm that Mac was not the same? "Webb told me she was _different."_

"She _is_ different." His friend sighed at his words and stood up, walking to a large wooden globe next to an armchair. The top opened up on hinges exposing various bottles of hard liquor and a few glass tumblers. Keeter poured himself a bourbon and offered one to Harm who declined. "I never believed something like that really existed outside of the movies, you know? I thought she was just in the zone. But, after an assignment we went out to dinner, one bottle of wine turned into two and…"

"Mac drank?" Harm felt the hair rise on the back of his neck and chill through thought his spine. He glanced around the loft, noticing the subtleties that were very much Sarah MacKenzie, his eyes dropping back to the bar and the liquor. None of the bottles were full and he began to panic. "She doesn't drink, Jack."

"Yeah, right." Keeter snorted, finishing the bourbon and refilling his glass. "Could have fooled me."

Standing up, Harm walked to the bar and confirmed his suspicion, there was no vodka - her drink of choice - the liquor she consumed during her youth. "Mac's an alcoholic, she's been one since she was fifteen." He hated betraying her trust but had no choice, he needed to know how far her cover went.

At Keeter's confused expression Harm clarified. "She had a rough upbringing… She was clean, sober and now…" Just how much of herself had she given up to the agency? How much more was she willing to risk and for what? Harm felt sick at the thought of them using her, but it was worse to think that she had allowed them to for him.

Dejectedly, Keeter sank into the sofa next to his friend and placed the rest of his drink on the coffee table. He stared at the amber liquid and recalled a night so many months ago when too much wine was consumed and he almost slept with Mac. "I don't think she started drinking again until I pushed it on her." He admitted on a sigh. "We finished up a rough assignment. I urged her to let loose some… I didn't know." The feeling of Harm's eyes on him was almost too much to bare and he shamefully brought his head down not because of the alcohol consumed but, because of what nearly happened. "I'm sorry."

Jealousy was an ugly trait, one that Harm seldom indulged in his past with his former lovers. It was with Mac that it reared its ugly head turning him into an absolute jerk sometimes. "Son of a bitch." He couldn't help the rage, the anger, the want to pummel his friend to the ground. Harm's fist connected with the side of Jack's face. "You son of a bitch, how could you?"

"I never slept with her!" Keeter defended, moving quickly away from his friend with his hands raised in defense. But, Harm was stalking him, moving like a jungle cat about to pounce on his prey. "I swear it, Harm...It almost happened but..." Back then, Jack wanted it to happen as the alcohol had fully stoked his desire for Mac. It was on that very sofa that she pushed him into. Mac had straddled him, kissed him and made Keeter forget who they were for a moment until she called out a name.

"But what?" Harm demanded. "Tell me."

"She didn't want _me._ In her mind, it wasn't me she was with, it was _you..._ Mac called your name clearly. I guess the alcohol made whatever control she had slip." He settled back next to Harm on the sofa. "I know you have a thing for her. If I hadn't been drinking, I would never… You know that." Keeter grabbed the drink off the table and finished it with one swallow, he wanted to toss the glass across the room and smash it against a wall. "It was the only time she's said your name since we've been working together… She won't talk about you. If she does she calls you Commander." It disturbed him to hear her voice so calloused the few times she spoke about Harm which was not much at all. She had warned him to cease all conversations about his friend.

"It can't be that bad." Harm said more to himself although he sensed it, the notion that she wasn't _his_ Mac anymore. And she'd done it for him. "Jesus Christ, Keeter. She did this to keep me in the Navy."

As if on cue, the sounds of the tumbler turning on the door lock echoed through the loft. A small suitcase was wheeled into the space and one very pissed off former Marine stood at the entrance.

The moment she stepped up to the door of the loft, Mac knew that The Commander was still there. She held her key with shaky hands willing herself under control again as the headaches began their slow torment. '_There will never be an us.' _She pushed the thought into her mind with emphasis and it calmed her shaking hands but, the headache was still there. The ache grew exponentially when she stepped inside to find the Commander and Keeter sitting on her sofa.

Without a word, she grabbed a pair of jeans, underwear and a long sleeved shirt from her dresser and then disappeared into the bathroom. She showered with the hottest water that her skin could stand hoping to ease the pain in her head. Only it kept pounding over and over, never abating. When she stepped out, the Commander and Keeter were still in the same spot staring at her wordlessly. It was absolutely unnerving.

Mac pulled out the USB drive from the slacks she'd been wearing when she entered and tossed it at Keeter. "What we need is there." She said and then made her way to the globe, pulling out a bottle of bourbon and one tumbler. "What is The Commander still doing here, Jack?"

Harm stared at her as if seeing a different person not the woman he'd been friends with for over seven years. "You don't drink." He stated as she swallowed the drink in one gulp and then refilled the glass. "Mac!"

For reasons unbeknownst to her, all Mac could do was laugh at his words. She wasn't sure if the Commander was concerned or admonishing her, likely a little bit of both, but she really didn't care. The Commander had no claim on her life and never would. "I told you to get him out of here."

"Mac, I couldn't. I had to bring someone in to clean up the mess you made." Keeter said, eyeing her cautiously as she moved away from the bar and went to the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets to pull out a protein bar. There was a calculated grace to her movements as Mac propped herself up on a barstool. "Webb's alive. The Phonebook was stolen. Maybe those men were after you, not Chad."

She snorted at his words. "Right. Someone would have told us."

"It's the truth, Mac… Webb's alive. I spoke to him, in person." Harm managed to find his voice again and stood making his way cautiously towards her. "You're in danger."

"Stay away from me." She warned him, turning to look at The Commander with a look that would kill. Mac hopped off the stool leaving her protein bar half uneaten as she moved towards Harm. "I don't want or need you here, Commander. You need to go home. You have to go back to Washington." '_There will never be an us.'_

"I'm not leaving without you." His voice was soft but firm. There was a flash in her eyes, an acquiescence for the briefest of moments. "Sarah, listen to me, please." He took one of her hands in his and felt her tremble at his touch. Mac's eyes were cast down, her breathing uneven and he believed that he'd broken through her walls. "Sarah, look at me."

_There will never be an us._ The war within Mac was real. From bumping into him at the club, she knew his touch would fracture her control. How she let him get _this _close was a wonder but, she would put a stop to it once and for all. "Stay away from me, Commander."

With her free hand, Mac pulled out a small pistol from the waistband of her jeans. She had grown accustomed to always carrying a piece at home and having weapons close by, at the ready. It had been one of several tips that the agency and Webb had ingrained into her. '_There will never be an us.'_

Her finger was on the trigger when she raised her arm up, pointing the pistol at the Commander. Her hand shook for a moment and although the headaches never ceased, the warm metal in her palm helped her slide back into control. Mac's mind raced with the command, a simple command that told her to shoot him. It would be easier that way, with him out of the picture and the incessant headaches ceasing altogether. Messy but, easier to deal with.

Keeter could always clean up the body while she went on with her job.


	12. Love In Cold Blood

**CHAPTER 12 - Love In Cold Blood  
**"_Love in cold blood  
__Breathe me in sweet suffering  
__Love in cold blood  
__Put me out of my misery"  
_"Love In Cold Blood" by HIM.

"Mac, don't." Keeter stood and came slowly to Harm's side. His eyes widened when he fully saw her expression, one of impassive anger. He had seen it before in their last assignment and new, without a doubt she would kill Harm. "You'll never forgive yourself if you…"

"You have to go. _Now." _Mac rubbed her finger on the trigger, itching to pull it back, but then the look in the Commander's eyes told her that she had won and he relented.

Harm stood with his hands on his hips and his heart hammering so hard he was sure she could hear it. His Mac wouldn't do this. She wouldn't even consider hurting him and without a doubt he knew that woman was gone now. "Webb was right about you." It hurt to see her acting this way but, it pained him more to know she had done this for him. He should have stopped her the night she came to his apartment before departing for Paraguay. He should have told her how he felt years ago before she'd taken Mic's ring. "If you want me gone _that_ bad, fine. But, you _are _in danger, MacKenzie, I'm not making it up."

"Give me your keys, Jack." She tucked the pistol back into the waistband of her jeans and extended her hand to Keeter.

Keeter pulled the car keys out of his pocket and placed them in the palm of her hand. "Where you going?"

"Since I can't trust you, I'm taking The Commander to the airport myself." Mac raised a brow, daring him to object.

"Mac…"

"Stay out of it, Jack." She warned and motioned for the Commander to follow. "Let's go. The sooner you're on a plane back to Washington the better." She barely allowed the two friends to say goodbye.

Mac slipped into the driver's seat of Keeter's SUV and practically put the vehicle in drive before The Commander was situated. She drove carefully through the snowy city and the icy streets, having to take several detours due to road closures near her loft. Inwardly, she cursed at the timing and the need to drive off late at night. There was a big winter storm coming and the wind had picked up, shaking the car as she made her way through the downtown district.

The tension was measurable and despite all of her efforts, Mac was fighting the headaches, willing herself not to black out from the battle. She bit her inner cheek, the pain and the taste of blood stopping her brain from shutting down entirely. Mac could feel The Commander's eyes on her and something about it felt so similar and yet, she couldn't recall why.

Harm could.

He stared at her as she drove, remembering an evening so many years ago when they had driven through a stormy night to Red Rock Mesa in search for her Uncle Matt. Back then he was searching for the similarities and differences between this woman and the one that had been murdered. He smiled at the memory and the words she'd said: _That's a very nice smile and I'm sure most of the time it gets you what you want. But, I don't know you Commander. So, if you don't mind, I'll keep my personal reasons to myself._

Commander. Mac had used his rank for various reasons but, there had been timbre in her voice then, much like the one she was currently using. The icy persona had been there since that moment although Mac had thawed quite a bit when she realized he was trying to help. It was still there for about a year and Harm suspected it had to be the way he looked at her, as if she were Diane. Only the differences were vast and he quickly wound find out that Mac would be willing to go to the ends of the Earth with him when no one else would.

He thought back to them meeting at the White House rose garden never realizing that her billet at JAG would be permanent and she'd become such an intrinsic part of his life. For sure, he never thought he'd fall in love. That's what this had all been about, hadn't it? The fact that he'd resigned his commission and nearly got killed to rescue her wasn't due to his sense of loyalty. Harm loved Mac with every fibre of his being and would until the day he died.

He relented back at her loft but, if Mac believed he was getting on a plane, she had another thing coming. It didn't matter how hard she tried to push him away, he was staying put and following through for once in regards to his feelings for her. There had to be a way to break through whatever brainwashing the agency had submitted her through. Harm only hoped that she would be alright in the end.

"Remember when we met?" He said suddenly, his voice startling her. "You pulled a gun on me then as well. I didn't know what to make of it. Here I was, trying to help." Harm thought with a smile. _That's a very nice smile…_ He used it on her again when she turned to face him before turning her attention back to the roads. He could see her grip the steering wheel hard, clearly the sound of his voice was bothering her. "Never thought we'd end up here." The smile disappeared and he stared at Mac as she drove. She was gritting her teeth, her jaw set and clenched. She took a breath and then another, each one hitching as if she were in some sort of pain.

Harm didn't know about the headaches that were plaguing her. Or the way the tension in her head squeezed painfully each time he said something. "Shut up, Commander."

"I have a name." He stated firmly, despising the timber of her voice whenever she said his rank. "Webb's alive."

Mac snorted. "Sure he is and the Tooth Fairy is real."

"I'm serious, Mac… I saw him and Gunny. They are both alive. He told me how to find you. How else could I?" At one point they had a connection, an inexplicable link but, that had been lost since Paraguay. "Someone stole the Phonebook."

She was trying to ignore the Commander and not let him bait him into a conversation. Mac could hear him continue to speak, each word grinding into her already aching head. "Shut up."

Harm did, for a moment and then shifted to fully face her. "What happened to you, Sarah?" The use of her given name seemed to hit some sort of chord, he noticed as Mac practically ran them off the road. It was a small victory for him so Harm decided to keep speaking. "Webb said you did this for me. To keep me out of the agency. Is it true?"

"Shut the fuck up!" If she weren't driving, Mac would have pulled her gun on him again and forced his compliance. Her head was pounding even worse than before, tightening her neck and shoulders. The back of her eyes ached and it almost felt like someone was pushing their fingers into her eye sockets. She was about to beg him to be quiet just to dull the ache.

The Commander was still talking; about what, she wasn't sure. His words were merely incomprehensible sounds and then he mentioned her name again. Mac could feel herself start to black out. "Mac, look out!" It was the last thing she heard before the SUV slammed head first into a tree.

The wreck had shaken Mac, her head that was already pounding turned into a full blown migraine. Consulting her internal clock, she noted that she'd blacked out for about ten minutes. The Commander was no longer in the vehicle and the passenger door was left wide open. He had likely gone for help.

"Damnit." With a huff, she released her seatbelt and made to hop out of the car. She paused for a moment bringing her hands up to her temples and rubbing vigorously. If the crash didn't kill her, she was sure the headaches would. "Ugh." Mac wiped her nose on the back of her hand to find a streak of blood. "Damn you, Commander." Why couldn't he have stayed in Washington and out her way?

The headaches had diminished her senses greatly. Normally, Mac would have noticed the vehicle that had been following them since she left the loft. She heard movement outside, a crunching of boots on the snowy ground. _That ain't no squirrel. _

Through the side mirror she saw an image, a shadow of a man that was creeping down the length of the car trying not to be seen. Instinctively Mac knew she was in danger and her hand came to the pistol tucked way in her jeans only to find it missing. The headache abated almost entirely as adrenaline began to pump through her veins. Maybe the Commander had a point when he said she was in danger?

Mac was forcefully pulled out and her body was slammed against the side of the car. "That all you got?" She taunted her attacker. Raising her head, she tried to get a good look at her attacker only to have the blood freeze right in her veins. No, it couldn't be. "Keeter?"

Jack reached out, wrapping his hand around her throat and squeezing enough to take some of the fight out of her. He stared at Mac as if seeing her for the first time. "Where's Harm?"

"I don't know."

He wound up, slamming his fist into her abdomen, the force making Mac double over, falling into him only to be pressed back up against the car. "Where the fuck is Rabb?!"

"I don't know." She punctuated. "When I came to, he was gone."

Angrily, Keeter slammed her into the car again. "I don't want to do this, but you know too much." He pulled out a pistol, aiming it point blank against her chest. Keeter looked at her, swallowing down the bile that rose in his throat. "Harm was right about the Phonebook, Cloutier has someone on the inside who stole it… Damnit, Mac I was trying to keep you out of this, keep you safe but, you're just as relentless as Harm. I'm going to use him to find Clayton Webb."

"Why are you doing this?"

Keeter shrugged, "Because, a few years ago, the CIA hung me out to dry and someone in Russian intelligence brought me back. I intend to pay that debt." The USB she had given him held much more information that Mac could have imagined. It wasn't just Cloutier's involvement with the Russians, it also held the truth about the agency's Phonebook - the double agents like Keeter that lay within.

He pressed the gun against her chest again but was unable to pull the trigger. Mac had been a friend once, a woman that he admired and cared for. He hated that it had to come to this, but he had no choice.

The hesitation gave Mac enough time to mount a defense. She brought her leg up hard, kneeing him in the groin causing his grip to weaken and his gun to fall on the ground. She set off on a dead sprint down a path that led through a park and towards the bay. Unfortunately, Keeter had recovered too quickly and Mac could hear the heavy footfalls coming after her getting closer and closer.

She doubled her efforts, pushing her body harder, her chest squeezing painfully from the exertion. Thankfully, years of running almost daily had helped her build stamina but, Mac could feel her body begin to slow down, her quads and hamstrings seizing from the strain. Her body was used to distance running not the strenuous pace of a sprint. She raced across a pedestrian bridge only to be tackled from behind.

Mac's body hit the ground hard and her head had already been battling the unforgiving headaches began to shut down. Her vision tunneled, greyed and she was suspended between consciousness, lucid enough to sense that her body was being dragged. "You're gonna pay for that, bitch." She heard Keeter say, his breathing rough and ragged.

She must have blacked out for a few minutes enough for her not to struggle against Jack as he dragged her body to the shore. It was the cold water that made Mac snap to and a painful sensation akin to pinpricks that spread throughout her body; a complete shock to her system that had her gasp for air.

And then there was the ache in her lungs that was too familiar as frigid water assaulted her body. "Jack, no!" She fought against the hands on her chest and head that pushed her under, holding her there until the need to breathe was insurmountable. _Don't. Don't breathe!_

Mac was brought to the surface for the briefest of moments allowing her to take in a gulp of air before being pushed under again. She struggled, pushed, clawed, but it was of no use, Keeter was much bigger than her, his strength too much for her to fight against. He held her down longer this time. The shock of the cold water forced her to breathe only to have her lungs fill with water - a sensation so painful she began to give into the darkness that tried to claim her.

As she lost consciousness visions began to fill in the gaps in her memory that she had repressed. It was all filled with _him -_ The Commander. There was a loud, solitary explosion and then the hands that had been trying to drown her stopped altogether. Mac could hear The Commander calling her name and felt as her body was pulled out of the water. Then, his lips were on hers...

...When Mac lost control, the vehicle had sailed through a park coming to stop only when it slammed into a tree. Harm had prepared himself for the wreck, gripping the dashboard as the sickening crunch of metal against wood sounded. He only walked away in hopes of finding help as Mac was alive but unconscious.

Trying to flag down a vehicle had been utterly useless. What few cars that were on the road wouldn't stop and his cellphone had gone missing at some point after the shoot out. Dejected, he headed back to the crash to find a tall, burly man running after Mac. They disappeared through the tree lined path that led deeper into the park and Harm gave chase, racking Mac's pistol that he had taken from her after the crash. He hurried after them, losing his barings until he heard her scream. "_Jack, no!"_

Harm followed her voice and the sound of splashes; frantic splashes as if someone were struggling. That's where he found the man standing in knee deep water holding Mac under. She was struggling against him and then he saw her hands drop away. Harm raised the gun, aimed and shot twice hitting the man squarely between the shoulder blades.

The man turned to him and to his horror Harm found his lifelong friend staring back at him. It was a surreal experience and for the briefest of moments, Harm was sure the wreck had caused him to lose some of his faculties. "No." An extreme sense of sadness fell over him. "Keeter?"

Jack let go of Mac and began to move forward fueled by rage and adrenaline. He made it up to the shore barely able to hold himself up. "They're coming for you too. You can't run." He said before falling dead into the water.

Harm grabbed Mac, pulling her body out and over to the snowy shore. He dropped to his knees in front of her, keenly aware that she was not breathing. "No, Mac!" His fingers moved between her breasts, finding her sternum and placing the heel of his hands just above as he began chest compressions. His mouth came over hers, forcing Mac to breathe. "C'mon Marine."

Mac coughed a few seconds later, bay water spewing from her lips as Harm turned her over so she could spit it out. He took a few good whacks against her back, forcing her body to breathe in more oxygen. There were voices coming down the path, footsteps that were getting closer and closer and Harm knew that they had to get out of there. He picked her up in a fireman carry and hurried along the length of the pedestrian bridge to the opposite side of the park where he found a few empty cars.

With the butt of her gun, Harm broke a window on an old, beat up sedan and proceeded to hot wire the vehicle. It sputtered to life in just one try and before long the pair sped off. She was shaking in the passenger's seat and though Harm had cranked the heat up as far as it would go, he knew she wouldn't get warm that easily.

Angrily, Mac tried to control her body and stop the shivering that made her teeth chatter. She had never felt such cold in her life and could feel the tips of her toes and fingers. Trying to rub her hands together had been futile, she couldn't seem to find the dexterity to do such a simple motion. Her heart was racing and a combined wave of dizziness and nausea forced her head against the car seat. "P-p-ort...Get-t-t-.. To port.." She tried to instruct him but, the words were falling short as it took a great effort to form logical sentences.

"Port? You need a hospital Mac before you die from hypothermia." He was racing through the city attempting to find the first clinic or hospital.

Mac cursed inwardly and doubled her efforts. "No! No hosp-p-p-ital. Get. Port. S-s-safe h-h-h-ouse. Hu-r-r-ry." As best as possible, Mac guided him to the Port of Toronto and an area that was fenced off with various signs warning trespassers to stay away. Beyond the gates sat an old, decrepit metal shack that he used to hide the stolen vehicle. There was a walkway that disappeared into a wooded area, a trail that Mac had him follow which ended at a pier where a small houseboat was moored. "My birthday." She said weakly as Harm had picked her up and carried her towards the houseboat stopping when he found it locked with some sort of digital keypad.

As Harm carried her inside, a single light in the entryway sputtered to life. Although it didn't quite illuminate the small home it was enough for him to see the full sized bed that sat beneath a large window. He carried Mac to it, dropping her on the mattress to find the shivering had not stopped but intensified. Mac's lips were blue, her fingers partially closed and he could see her breathing started to slow. Without a word, he came to her side, kneeling on the bed as he began to strip the wet clothing off of her.


	13. Tear Me Down

**Chapter 13 - Tear Me Down**

"_I tried many times but nothing was real_

_Make it fade away, don't break me down_

_I want to believe that this is for real_

_Save me from my fear_

_Don't tear me down"_

"_All I Need" by Within Temptation._

Mac could feel her body becoming more and more lethargic as the Commander maneuvered through the city. She gave him directions as best she could lead him to a houseboat in an abandoned area of the docks. It was her safe house, one that not even Keeter knew about - a last resort if shit hit the fan. She couldn't resist when The Commander plucked her out of the passenger's seat and carried her into the houseboat. Her body was far too weak.

Her pulse which had been hammering away due to adrenaline and the uncontrollable shivering had begun to slow and Mac could barely stand the feel of her own skin. It made her nauseous when he placed her on the bed, a sudden wave of vertigo that made the room spin so hard, Mac had to clench her eyes shut until it passed. She heard The Commander's voice say something that she didn't quite comprehend.

"Keep your eyes open, Marine!" Harm all but yelled as he proceeded to remove her clothing. The shivering had slowed down some and from his SERE training he knew it was not a good sign. He needed to get Mac out of the wet clothing and warm as soon as possible. The jacket went first, it's heavy fabric dropping to the floor by the bed in a sopping wet mess.

Next, he removed her scarf and pulled off the long sleeved shirt leaving her only in a bra. Mac made eye contact with him for a moment and he could tell by the look in her eyes that this was the last thing she wanted him doing. "I'm sorry, Mac. You'll freeze to death if I don't." Deftly, he went to the button of her jeans. Harm's hands shook when he unclasped the button and then found the tab to the zipper, sliding it down.

He took a breath and then hooked his fingers on the hem of the pants. The heavy material was still soaked and he had to forcefully pull them down her legs, stopping to remove her boots and socks. The jeans too joined her pile of wet clothing on the floor. She was left exposed to him, in nothing but underwear, a matching dark blue bra and panty set that he knew needed to be removed too.

_Christ_, Harm had thought about this moment so many times and how it would feel to remove every last stitch of clothing from her. It was an ongoing fantasy and it bothered him that the reality was more out of necessity, not because she wanted him to. "I'm sorry, Mac." He said again and carefully brought his hands between her breasts where the front claps to her bra was. He snapped it open and turned his head to the side, forcing himself to look away out of respect.

"Stay awake, Mac." Finally, he pulled off her panties and then removed all of his own clothes leaving himself completely naked.

"Trying to get you warm." Harm said as he laid next to her. He reached down and pulled a folded quilt from the foot of the bed bringing it up to cover them both. Slowly, he inched against her, pulling Mac against his chest. His breath hitched at how cold her skin felt against him.

He knew a thing or two about hypothermia and was concerned when noticed that Mac had stopped shivering. One of his hands rubbed briskly against her back and he drew her even closer making sure her whole body was covered by the thick quilt and his embrace. "I know you're cold… I know what this feels like."

Harm hadn't thought about his dip in the Atlantic for some time. It had taken him a few months but, the nightmares had ceased and found comfort in flying again. There had been a time when he'd wake up cold and screaming for help. SERE training when to shit when you were bobbing in the Atlantic during the mother of all storms. Harm was pretty certain he was going to die.

He had passed out as his body was hoisted up to the SAR helo. Somehow, he hadn't. _She_ saved him and now he was saving her.

Pushing thoughts of that night away he glanced down at Mac. Her head was against his chest, one of her arms was draped over his torso. She had fallen asleep and he brought his fingers to her neck to find her pulse regulating.

Harm reached behind Mac, making sure the quilt was fully covering her back. He tucked some of the fabric beneath her and held her tightly trying to get some rest.

Through what was left of the night, he didn't sleep much save for a few minutes here and there. At some point Mac's body relaxed and she had snuggled against him, using his body heat to keep herself warm. Harm watched her as she slept, noticing the changes in her features that he'd memorized through the years.

He noticed the small scars on face that weren't seen unless you were as close as he was now, just a breath away. There was yet another scar about three inches long that ran on the front part of Mac's shoulder. He frowned wondering if it had something to do with her work at the agency. Harm resisted the urge to touch the scar at her throat from a surgery she had in her 20s to remove her thyroid due to cancer.

Never in a million years could he imagine that one day he would lay naked with Mac. After Paraguay he figured any chances would be over and he even forced himself to stop fantasizing about her, trying to replace that desire with anger. And he had been angry for a time but just couldn't anymore. He cared for her too damned much.

As the sun had risen and the soft morning light began to bathe the room he found himself wanting her, craving to touch and kiss her skin. She was alive and feeling her skin pressed against his had awakened a need for her that was driving him insane. It was inexplicable to want someone so badly to the point that, he knew that if they ever made love, he wouldn't be sated. Harm would never get enough of her.

Knowing it was probably a mistake, his fingers brushed over her hip and trailed upwards over her bare back. He felt Mac stir and lean into him. Her hands came up to his chest, moving over his pecs. His breath hitched at the contact and his hand came down and then up, stopping at the swell of her breast before his lips found a spot on her neck that he found tantalizing.

Mac was awake, sort of or maybe she was dreaming? She was in The Commander's arms his fingers stroking her hip lightly before raising up and caressing her bare back. It felt good and safe and warm and every emotion she had been devoid of for several months. She leaned into his caresses bringing her hands up to his chest and touching him as she wanted to for years. The peppering of hair tickled her palm and it was that small detail that forced her eyes open.

_This_ was certainly _not_ a dream. "You need to stop that." She said when The Commander's hand moved up her torso stopping just under the swell of her breast and his lips met the side of her neck.

"Why?" She heard him ask, The Commander's voice deep and intoxicating. Seductive, really.

"I don't like you touching me, _Commander._" Mac emphasized his rank although she never did stop his hand and found her traitorous body leaning into his - wanting him. The headaches began slowly and she could feel it begin to spread, drumming at her temple when his mouth descended to that spot on her neck again.

"The look on your face says you do." There was The Commander's voice again, drawing her in, making her want him. "You _want_ me touching you and so much more."

She was lying in his arms naked, confused and feeling utterly vulnerable. It suddenly dawned on her what had happened and how The Commander rescued her.. She was hypothermic, feeling her body shut down until it had. Mac suspected that The Commander used his body heat to keep her warm and she had fallen asleep in his arms. Something inside of her was screaming for this to stop, that she needed to untangle herself from The Commander's grasp before a catastrophic failure of her walls would occur. "_Commander_. Stop." She used her code-word but, when The Commander lips came over her own in a soft kiss, Mac began to lose the battle.

The Commander tried to pull her on top of him, to press her body against his, but was met with resistance. Mac pushed at his chest forcefully and untangled herself from his arms. She sat at the edge of the bed and rubbed at her temples, willing the stupid headaches to stop. She needed to run, now and get away from a touch that was sending her senses reeling. Her resolve was crumbling, slipping away. No training in the world would prepare her for him. "Don't do that again, Commander. I'm warning you."

Harm was crazy to start something with her but, the way she looked laying in his arms reminded him of the woman she once was. The one that would look at him with a certain expression that would drive him crazy. He needed to find her, to save her. "Why? Because you liked it? Because it reminded you that you have feelings for me?"

"_Had. _ That's over now." She said roughly and stood up, heading to the bathroom and returning with a robe wrapped around her. "Fuck." Just the fact that she admitted her former feelings for him was a blow and the headache began to turn into a full blown migraine. She gritted her teeth and grabbed onto the edge of the dinning table as she almost blacked out from fighting him.

Harm got out of bed, wrapping a bed sheet around his waist as he moved towards her. "You can't deny this thing between us… you can't deny us, Mac!"

"There is no US… _There will never be an us._" She recited her mantra, the one thing that kept whatever sanity was left alive. She didn't love him, she didn't want him, she didn't need them. "I don't need you, _Commander._ I never have."

"Bullshit…. Total bullshit and I am going to fight you on it."

"Commander… There. Will. Never. Be. An. Us." She punctuated each word, trying to ram it home, to get it through The Commander's thick skull and then she pushed past him needing to head outside.

Harm turned her to him and moved forward, stopping a few millimeters short. He backed her up into the door and placed a hand on the knob when she tried to escape. "You want me, Mac. You know you do and if you weren't locked in some emotional void, we would have made love... You know it's true."

Mac glared up at him and felt an anger start to grow, the one that she manifested when she needed to hate him. "Ah, there's the arrogant jet jock longing for another notch on his belt. Every woman wants The Commander."

"No. That's not it at all...I love you, Sarah."

That took the wind out of her sails. She stared at him, mouth agape and with a stupid expression. _I love you, Sarah. _ Those were words she was sure she'd never hear. Not from him. Never from him. The Commander didn't love her, she knew this. He didn't love her, this was just some sort of trick. "There will never be an us, get that through your thick skull!" Mac couldn't help the tears that fell from her attempt to fight the headaches and him. The pain was so unbearable, made worse every time he spoke. "You need to leave me alone, Commander"

"Please don't tell me you're so frozen inside." He noticed the tear that trickled down her cheek and he reached up and brushed it away noticing how she shivered at his touch. "Say my name, Mac."

She turned her face away from his touch. "What makes you think I've ever felt anything for you? Maybe a quick roll in the hay is all I wanted? To use you and leave you.."

"Everything that has happened between us…"

"There was never an _us._" She argued, fighting the memories that were assaulting her. _There is no us, there's you and Renee. _There was always something in the way, she remembered and he'd hurt her so bad. "Isn't everyone involved with me dead or wish they were? Hell you almost died recently." She jabbed him just above his gunshot wound, making him wince in pain. "You used personal information to hurt me and now you expect me to welcome you into my arms? Fat chance, Commander."

Harm's hand dropped away from the door knob and he took a step away from her. He saw the smirk spread across her lips and knew she'd won a point in this discussion. "But, I love you."

His words made her pulse quicken and her heart squeeze painfully. She didn't need or want him. The Commander was bad for her, would ruin the mission. "What does love have to do with anything?"

He said that once when he wasn't sure what else to say. When his own emotions were out of control as he left her behind to chase a childhood dream. That was when their relationship had changed drastically and started on a slow, downward spiral. He should have never left to fly, he should have never left _her_. But he did and pushed her closer to Mic as a result. "I don't want to lose you again."

"You never had me, Commander." She was trying to hurt him, to keep him away.

It almost worked until Harm noticed the way her breath hitched when his hand grazed hers. How her eyes darkened when his body inched closer, trapping her against the door. "Say my name, Mac and I'll stop… I'll leave you alone, I promise. But, I really don't think you want me gone. Not really." He brought his head down, his warm breath fanning her skin. "Do you?" Her mouth opened and closed as if she were trying to say something but, the words never came. "Sarah..." Harm brushed her lips with his and then slowly kissed her.


	14. Scars

Adult only chapter is here. This has been sitting around for months when I originally wrote this waiting for the right moment. It has come... I hope it doesn't disappoint.

**CHAPTER 14 - Scars**

"_Now let the healing start_

_The fires out of guns_

_We keep it in our hearts_

_We're like a thousand suns_

_Ooh, yeah, every day, step by step,_

_we dare to love again_

_And if we lose our grip,_

_meet you at the end_

_Know they're cutting you deep_

_Feel the scars in your sleep_

_What didn't kill us made us stronger_

_Stories left on our skin_

_Wear them with everything_

_What didn't kill us made us stronger."_

"Scars" by Tove Lo.

Mac wasn't sure how she wound up back in bed with him only that The Commander's lips were working her into a frenzy. The last thing she recalled was trying to step outside but The Commander stopped her. He'd kissed her lips gently and just as quickly deepened the kiss when he was met with little resistance. To say that Mac was shocked was an understatement and it took her a few minutes to try and stop him.

"Commander… you need to stop." She felt dizzy and slightly helpless as his mouth left her own and began an onslaught on her body. How did this happen? How could she let him?

Harm half expected her to slap him when his mouth initially claimed hers. He kissed her slowly and felt her body lean against his. "I'm not gonna hurt you, Mac." He stated when unseeing eyes stared back at him.

He pulled at the cinch of her robe and carefully let it slide from her shoulders to pool on the floor. The chill of the room made her nipples harden and he ached to touch her. He then took her hand and led her back to bed.

Mac's brain was mounting an assault, as his mouth went to the spot on her neck he'd been interested in earlier. The words from her training kicking in trying to force her to stop him. "Commander...stop."

And Harm would have had her voice been stern and unwavering. He glanced up to find her eyes closed and a tension on her face as she fought some sort of war within. He knew he wasn't making a mistake and hoped he wouldn't pay for it later.

His lips came to her shoulder, and the scar line that he delicately ran his fingers over only to replace them with his lips. He did the same with the scar at her throat and the tiny ones on her face stopping to press a kiss to her lips.

Harm's hand came down her body, slowly exploring the skin he'd wanted to lose himself in for years. A hand cupped one of her breasts making her breath hitch. "Commander…"

"I want you, Mac." He growled as his mouth came over one hard nipple, covering it as his tongue swirled over. She tasted sweet, spicy and he wanted more of her - he was a man addicted.

"Commander, stop." Her defense came again and when she tried to push him off his teeth nipped gently on her causing Mac to let out a strangled moan. The headache was drumming hard, relentless the combination of pain and pleasure made her physically unable to stop him.

She felt weak, defenseless and wanton all at once. "Commander…" Mac was trying to stop him with words but, he seemed to ignore her. Her body, on the other hand seemed to have a mind of its own. She felt a tingling in her belly and a liquid heat even further down when his mouth continued to lavish her breast.

"Say my name." He spoke before his tongue trailed over between the valley of her breasts where he stopped to place a soft kiss before his mouth fully came over her other breast. He sucked at her, making that nipple almost painfully erect and then blew a breath over watching as the skin puckered around it.

He was rewarded with another moan and just as quickly a protest, "Commander… you have to stop." Mac's voice was soft, breathy, her breath hitching when his tongue lapped and sucked at her.

But, she didn't push him away this time and as his mouth became idle again, working its way from her chest to her abdomen. He noticed her muscles contract and body shake. Mac wanted this, she wanted him and he would break her from whatever agency mind trick they'd done to her.

Harm noted the mark on her torso, a fresh bruising that made him frown. He ran his fingers gently over it and placed kisses over her skin as if his lips could heal her.

His tongue swirled around her belly button and then he continued moving lower still stopping briefly just above her bikini line. "Commander, don't."

His hands caressed her hips and then slid over her thighs. On Mac's right leg he found the faded scar, a reminder of a night spent hiding from poachers. His fingertips ran over the marred skin and aging he brought his lips down to kiss the spot.

"Commander, stop touching me!" Mac's warning was real this time and she came up to her elbows, intent on getting away from him at all costs. She couldn't do this, shouldn't give herself to him because if she did everything she'd worked so hard to suppress would be destroyed. The mission would suffer and, in her world, it was always about the mission. It came first above all other things, above the desire for him. So, she had to stop this man. She had to… "Oh God." His hand moved up passing over her curls.

Harm sensed her anguish but, he wouldn't stop although the consequences of losing her forever were quite real. She accused him of not being able to let go and now he was ready. "I want to taste you, Mac." He said in a voice thick with desire.

His hands had been gently brushing over her hips and down her legs hoping he wouldn't have to force her to open for him. Gently he ran his nails over her thighs and back up, keeping constant contact with her. "I'm not going to hurt you, Mac. I would never."

Fundamentally, she knew he was speaking the truth. But, her training had forced her mind to believe he was some sort of enemy. He would obliterate the mission. "Commander, you have to stop. Please just stop." Harm had increased the pressure of his hands, kneading the muscles on her legs.

"Then tell me you don't want this, that you don't want me and I'll stop." He demanded but, she didn't stop him when his hands that had been massaging her thighs spread her legs. One of his fingers slid between her dampened folds moving gently but, not entering her. He slid his finger back and forth between her swollen lips finding her wet and ready, betraying the words she said. "Say my name." He urged again, needing so desperately to break her control to bring her back to him. "Sarah, please."

Her traitorous body had a mind of its own and Mac could feel a painful ache between her legs, her core clenching and moistening with every touch of his fingers on her body. The headaches stopped as if a switch had been turned and she opened her eyes to find him looking at her with a pleading expression.

God, he was so beautiful. His five o'clock shadow giving him an almost mysterious look. His eyes glinted in the morning light and parts of her wanted to drown in their depths. This is a man that she loved once. A man that she once wanted to be loved by. "Commander…" Her voice cracked as she said his rank, but it made the pain in her head commence again.

The part that wanted him to stop was rallying, coming for a brutal attack - one she knew would destroy him. "There will never be an us. I don't want there to be an us." Those words had a desired effect. The Commander's hand stopped and Mac was sure he would pull away allowing her to escape. Except her body had other designs.

Harm's heart broke and he felt an anger building inside forcing his hand to stop. He closed his eyes tightly, wanting the volatility that had suddenly assaulted him to stop. Only he felt Mac shift, pushing herself to his hand that was cupping her mound. "You don't really believe that." He whispered and brought his mouth over her sex. Harm breathed in her scent, an intoxicating mix of the light perfume still lingering on her skin and the wetness between her thighs.

"Commander! S-stop." Mac gasped when his mouth took her. He wasn't slow or gentle as he sucked her clit into his mouth. It made her buckle under him from a sensation that was so intense that Harm had to force her legs open with his hands and hold them apart.

She couldn't stop herself from writhing beneath him, craving more as his mouth made love to her. One single, sharp pulse of pain blasted inside her skull and then all she could feel was him.

Mac came once, hard, fast and without much effort. Her goddamned body had fully betrayed her and was doing so again as she ground against his mouth, wanting more.

Harm released his hold on her legs and he ran his hands up to her breasts kneading them gently when his tongue lapped at her folds. "Tell me you want me, Mac." He dared her, as his tongue probed her and then stopped. She was writhing beneath him, aching for more of his intimate kisses. "Say my name."

Mac was breathing hard, fighting the thoughts in her mind, trying to hold on to some control. She had to stop him, this couldn't happen. It would betray everything she'd come to hold true and believe. She felt vulnerable being naked and so exposed to him but her body and mind were waging a war against one another.

"Comman…" When she tried to mount another defense his mouth came over her bud again sucking gently. She was already sensitive from having come once. "Oh…" She shook when one finger entered her and began a slow and tantalizing exploration.

Harm inserted another finger and began slowly moving in and out of her as he felt her body tense. His eyes washed over her body stopping to look at her beautiful face. Mac's lips were parted, eyes were half lidded and her body undulated against him.

She had brought a hand to her breast and was massaging one orb in time with him. The other hand gripped to sheets beneath her tightening as another wave of ecstasy washed over her.

Harm increased the pressure and sped up the movements of his fingers as his mouth came to her clit again. For the first time, he felt his erection come to life, straining, aching so painfully to be inside of her. He brought one hand away from her and stroked himself slowly, careful to not to bring himself to orgasm. His other hand continued pumping in and out of her.

Mac squeezed the fingers inside of her and ground herself into him. Her breathing was fast and erratic. She was moaning louder nearing the brink and about to tumble over. The hand at her breast trailed down her body and over his head. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held his mouth against her an explosive, earth-shattering climax wracked her body. "Commander...I…Harm… Oh, Harm… yes."

At that moment, his name on her lips was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard. He continued making love to her with his mouth making her come once again. Harm needed to be inside her, his desire to join them was almost desperate. He pulled himself away from her, coming up to kneel between her parted thighs.

Mac instantly ached at their separation and a familiar tightness gripped at her heart. She loved him, always would and yet, she'd forced herself to forget. She sat up and stared watching him breathe erratically as he fought for control. His beautiful body was glistening with sweat and her eyes cast down to the part of him she'd been so curious about throughout the years.

She took his erection in her hand and began to stroke him slow and methodically. He gasped at her touch and how her hand deftly pumped him. Mac sat up fully, drawing her to him as her lips took his. She kissed him deeply, slowly, savoring the taste of herself on his lips.

Leaning back, she brought her hips up to him, pressing her mound against his erection. She needed him inside her deep and wild. She wanted him to erase the last unbearable year and a half where she'd given herself to the agency. It filled some sort of void and opened another. Mac didn't want to feel frozen anymore living with a steely hatred.

Harm took his erection in his hand, the tip stopping between her wet folds. "Tell me." He needed to hear the words, to know that she wanted him.

"Yes, Harm… I want you. Only, you."

And with that he buried himself inside her in one swift movement taking her to the hilt. Mac gasped barely getting a chance to accommodate to his girth as Harm began to move in and out of her. He thrust into her desperately in a hard pace that had her gripping to the arms that were on either side of her.

Mac held onto him, nails digging into his skin almost painfully as she dug her heels into the mattress. Their eyes locked and she found it terribly errotic to have her watch him this way. There was a fire in his eyes, a dark intensity that she had never experienced before. When her tongue darted out to lick her lips, his gaze followed and a smug expression crossed his beautiful features when she called out his name. "Harm...don't stop."

He was trying to make the moment last as long as possible but, that familiar sensation of release rose within him. He thrust harder into her feeling her own climax build as her muscles wrapped around his cock. "Sarah." He said her name on a strangled groan as he came inside her.

Mac pulled him down to her, arching against him. She wanted to feel his body against hers, the weight of him cocooning her. Her hips ground against him and she felt him twitch inside of her as she went over the edge. "Harm...oh God… Harm."

Her arms came around him, holding him close as her hands skimmed the expanse of his strong back. She kissed his shoulder and licked at the beads of sweat at his neck.

Both of their breathing was labored and she held him tightly as he recovered from their love making. The weight of him was a sort of homecoming Mac didn't know she needed.

Unwanted tears welled up in her eyes and Mac could not help but sob. The hurt in his eyes, the way she had treated him pained her greatly. Oh God, what had she done to him?

Harm rose himself up, anxiety written across his face as he saw her cry. "Mac?"

She silenced his concern with a kiss, holding the sides of his face when Harm made to pull away. Mac moved her hips against his finding him still partially hard and still inside of her. "Make love to me." She pleaded, her legs coming up over his hips. "Please."

"Yes." Any type of argument was silenced by the look in her eyes - a desire that matched his own so completely. He was slow with her this time, gentle to the point of an equal frustration.

Her hand slipped between the two of them as her fingers circled her clit bringing a fresh wave of sensations. Harm kept his eyes on hers as she touched herself loving the way her face shone in the heat of passion. Soft mews escaped from her lips which he captured with his own.

Mac drank from his lips kissing him passionately as he loved her body with his own. Her nails raked over his strong back making him buckle when she stopped at his perfect six and dug into his skin. "Harm…" She called his name again and again, begging for him to continue to ravage her body with his own. She wanted...no needed to be consumed by him possesed fully. The one hand between them moved faster, her index finger flicking at her bud frantically.

Harm's slow thrusts quickened unable to take the slow, tantalizing pace when he wanted her this much. Her moans and the staccato of her breaths forced him to buck against her wildly. He was unrelenting and Mac came beneath him in an orgasm that had her screaming his name.

"Sarah." He said her given name forcefully and came inside her again. Once he was spent, he pulled out of her instantly missing the intimate contact and knowing he would die of need if they never did this again. Harm rolled off of her laying on his back and hoping to catch his breath.

Once he pulled away, Mac felt the warm mix of her wetness and his seed pooling beneath her. In a few short months their five year deal would be up. Any chance of her getting pregnant was null and void at the moment as the CIA had practically issued her an IUD. She briefly wondered what it would he like to be pregnant with his child and brushed that thought away - this wasn't the time and place for it.

They lay together in silence and Harm was curious if she thought they'd made a mistake. He couldn't bear a rejection from her now, it would kill him as fast as a bullet through the heart. Carefully, he turned on his side, propping himself up on his elbow to look at her.

Her body was covered in beads of sweat and he considered licking them off of her. Mac's eyes were closed and a soft smile spread on her lips. He reached a hand out, caressing her shoulder gently and then trailing downward sliding over sweaty skin until he took her breast in his hand.

Harm wasn't ready for her and wouldn't be for a while but that didn't mean he couldn't please her. His mouth came over her other breast lavishing with so much more attention than he'd given her earlier. "Harm...You're going to be the death of me." She breathed out when his other hand found her curls.

He stroked her quickly, mouth still over her breasts. He could never get enough of her. Mac reached a hand out, wanting to take his cock in her hand but, he stopped her and she raised her head up with a confused look. "I can't, Mac. I'm not 22 anymore. It takes me a while to reboot."

Her thighs tightened around his hand as she came and for the first time since they started, she begged him to stop. It was too much, too intense and her body was beginning to protests. Mac pulled him to her and kissed him gently. Things would never be the same between them. He was now more than a colleague or a friend. He was her lover.


	15. Only Love

Thank you for the reviews. This story has taken a few darker turns than I had originally outlined but, it's been a fun ride.

The end of this chapter has another adult only material. Ye be warned. Enjoy!

**CHAPTER 15 - Only Love**

_"Don't you shut this down__No, don't you give this up__I took all this love I found and I hope that it's enough__I saw you, yeah you, you're breaking down__I hope you, yeah you, you come around__Now don't you shut this down oh no don't you give this up__I took all this love I found and I hope that it's enough. Is it enough?"_

"Only Love" by Pvris

Harm awoke to an empty bed, his hand reaching out to where Mac had fallen asleep and finding her missing. Instantly, he sat up in a panic. It wasn't hard to imagine her leaving, desperate to get away from him. Although it felt like something had changed early that morning, he wasn't a fool. He knew Mac, his Mac would be lost for sometime.

Sounds of running water and the faint smell of wood burning made him take a breath. He noticed a small wood burning stove which gave the houseboat a warm, cozy feel. Harm sat on the edge of the bed and found that the sheets were barely covering it. Plus, they'd made a mess and even shifted the bed from it's frame.

He stared at the bed shyly and then wrapped a flat sheet around his waist as he set off to right the bed and find a fresh set of sheets. That's how Mac found him, smoothing his hands over the clean sheets and fluffing the pillows. She leaned against the doorframe and smiled. "You changed the sheets?"

Harm turned to look at her. He couldn't help the way his cheeks flushed when his eyes admired her dressed only in a large, fluffy towel. "We practically wrecked the bed." Thoughts of what had occured between them just a few short hours ago flashed through his mind. He still wanted her and her current state of undress made him want to pick Mac up and toss her on the bed. "You should have woken me. I would have liked to join you in the shower and clean up the mess I made."

She ignored his comment and rolled her eyes. "The shower is just like the houseboat - tiny. You won't fit in it by yourself let alone the two of us."

"We could have made it work." He stepped towards her and pulled Mac into him. Thankfully, she didn't resist when his hands ran up and down her spine or when his mouth covered hers. He kissed her slowly, grinning against her lips when she let out a soft moan. "You're not gonna run off of me are you?"

"No."

"Good. I'll be a minute." He gave her a quick kiss and disappeared into the bathroom finding that she had left a new razor and toothbrush atop a small basin. Harm faced the shower and raised a brow; Mac had been right, he would barely fit in there. When he stepped out of the tiny bathroom, he found Mac sitting on the edge of the bed brushing her hair, she was still wrapped in that towel. "I put your clothes to wash." She motioned over to a small washer/dryer combo made to fit an RV. "Sorry, I really don't have anything for you to wear…. This place isn't exactly for anything too long term."

"It's okay." Harm walked to his side of the bed and laid down, using a pillow to prop himself against the headboard. There was a storm raging outside, the high winds making the vessel move slightly. From his position he could see her back, which was hunched, her shoulders slumping.

He was determined not to have an awkward morning after and yet, he could feel the tension filling the space. The woman that had given into him was sliding the walls back into place, trying to keep him out and he could sense it. "Mac, what's wrong?"

Mac closed her eyes and thought about the last few hours, the fulfillment of a dream she thought was never possible. Had she made a mistake? In the shower she tried to scrub the scent of him off of her, a means to reboot and mount a defense, but it was impossible. Each and every time she moved her own hands over her skin was as if he were there touching her. She could still feel the delicious ache between her thighs and the want to be with him again coursed through her veins.

What had The Commander done to her?

Twelve hours ago, she had pulled a gun on The Commander with intent to kill. Twelve hours ago she was willing to let The Commander die and felt some excitement from the prospect of riding herself of him. She felt a tear slip out of her closed eyes as a kind of grief gripped her. Would she actually have killed him?

Mac was ashamed of those thoughts and of the ruthless woman that she had become, the monster that lived without care or feeling. He was her best friend once, someone she would have cared for and protected with her life. But, this thing that she'd become would have hurt him. And that was the part that she couldn't wrap her head around. She had done this for him. Joined the CIA for him. She was willing to give up her life for him. How did she let things get this far? Why did part of her hate him so much when deep inside she knew it was just the opposite.

And there was another problem that she couldn't shake and it scared her. Something inside still wanted and craved for his swift death, Mac felt it hovering just beneath her skin. Whatever tricks the agency shrink had played with her mind was deeply rooted. It was her survival mechanism that didn't exactly come with a trusty 'off' switch. It made her sick to know of the demon that lived inside and the fact that she would have to indulge it in order to survive. When she did, would she hurt Harm?

_Harm_. God, the way he touched her so reverently as if she was the only woman on Earth. His fingers had left a trail of fire in their wake and made her desire him so much. Mac had forgotten how she'd wanted him in the past and it all came rushing back as he took her. She had never been with a man who had taken such care in making sure she was pleasured.

But, it was more than just sex, it was a way of speaking without words and consumating a relationship they both avoided for far too long.

When she woke in his arms, Mac never wanted to leave. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, his body covering hers, his kisses claiming her. She wanted him beneath and above her. She just wanted all of him and every complication that would come out of their relationship. And that posed a problem. Why now? Why didn't this happen years ago when they had righted their relationship and started over again?

Hours ago she had been concerned with work and a mission that The Commander had crowded on. He was bad for work, an intruder to her methodology. She wanted him gone and now all she wanted was his touch, his warmth… his love.

Christ, her head felt like a short circuiting computer.

"You broke me." She said, her voice sounding small and fragile, two things the CIA taught her not to be. "You _broke_ me." Mac said again and turned to face Harm who was staring at her with a sad look in his eyes.

The movement exposed her thigh that had been covered by the towel and Harm noticed the marks on her skin that looked like finger imprints. "Did I do that?" He moved over to her and studied the marks including a few that were higher up on her other thigh.

She merely nodded and grinned sheepishly. "We were a little desperate for each other." Mac knew that she'd left her own marks by way of scars on his back from where her nails had bitten into his skin. The sex between them had been nothing short of primal.

"A little?" His fingers delicately ran over each mark knowing that bruises would eventually form. There were many more marks on her skin, some that seemed like fine cuts that had healed a long time ago. And then there was her shoulder and the long scar from a surgeon's blade. "What'd they do to you?" His fingers moved over her shoulder and Harm noticed her breath hitch.

She took a breath unsure of how he would react. "It wasn't forced on me. I asked them to…" Despite everything, she didn't want Harm to hate her or worse, be disappointed. "I asked them to make me forget you."

The admission hurt him more than Harm would ever admit. He was actually referring to the scars on her body and had forgotten the emotional ones that carried more weight. His mind flashed to her holding a gun on him and her words that he wanted to forget. '_There will never be an us.'_ "Didn't realize you despised me so much, Mac." Harm let his fingers fall away from her and instantly, she missed the contact.

"I don't.. I didn't." It pained her to see the hurt in his eyes and the accusing way he stared at her. This had all made sense once, when their brush with death in the Chaco made her edgy. Hell, it made sense when he arrived in Toronto with information that she tried to ignore. Now, after being intimate with him and feeling so delightfully sated, Mac saw herself for what she really was; a fraud. She had feelings for him and always would. "I knew I didn't have it in me to do the things they expected if I had you on my mind… I botched my first mission."

"Because of me?" He scoffed at the idea.

She let out a deep sigh and nodded. "My first time out I knew I was way over my head. They tasked me to seduce a former KGB officer and steal some notes the CIA was after." Mac felt Harm tense beside her and heard his hard intake of breath. She could only imagine what thoughts ran through his mind. "I couldn't be with him that way. I just couldn't." She remembered trying to let go and pretend but, the hands that caressed her body weren't wanted or needed. Mac couldn't give herself to Milkhailov not without force. "I couldn't. I kept thinking about you, felt like I was betraying you somehow. I knew you would disapprove, be _disappointed_ in me… I paid for it as well."

Harm winced as she said the last words so casually. He felt bile rise up in his throat and a shiver ran down his spine at the thought of someone forcing himself on her. "Did he…" He couldn't get the word out if he tried, the thoughts of someone violating her in such a way made him sick to his stomach.

Mac shook her head. "I wasn't raped, thank God, but he did other things."

"Is that why you have the mark on your shoulder?" His fingers moved over the scar, carefully tracing it. Harm wished he could take it away and all of the other scars both physical and otherwise.

"Needed to have surgery to repair it." Mac thought back to her time with the Russian, the great care that he took in attempting to woo her. He had been romantic, caring and all of that broke apart when he meant to defile her in the back of his limo. It had been so long ago that Mac had repressed the memories of how she had started to want Ilaya or at least the feel of a man's touch. Except that, in her mind, it wasn't Mikhailov's hands on her, it was Harm's.

"I started to like his attention, in a fashion." She said in disgust. "He was attractive, charming, romantic so I let my guard down... and then he turned violent." Mikhailov had tried to rip the dress off of her, to rape her but, she was able to stop him. "I drugged him before he could have his way with me... but one of his goons had been on to me from the get." Yuri. The man hated her with a passion, she had been in his cross hairs from the very beginning.

Harm brought his hand off her shoulder, and into her hand, threading his fingers with hers. He squeezed, letting her know she was safe with him, that she could tell him anything. As much as he didn't want the gory details, he needed to know what had happened and why she'd become so cold.

"They held me captive for several days, I still don't know exactly how many… My ability to tell time kinda faltered." She told him about the torture, how she was shoved into putrid smelling water. How her body was strung up to the rafters and her left shoulder tore from the strain. "After that I saw the company head shrinker and they offered me a way to forget the one thing that would make me vulnerable - you."

Harm saw the pain in her eyes as he brushed away a tear that rolled down her cheek. He couldn't understand how he had such power over her but then, she had the same kind of control over him. "Why use the word Commander?"

At the mention of the word, she felt a quick ache at her temple. It was not a full blown headache but, it was enough to remind her that Harm hadn't fully broken her. "It's what I call you when I am angry with or need to be impersonal."

"I understand.. I think."

"Please don't hate me for this." Mac looked down at their joined hands, noting how well they fit together. His thumb had been absentmindedly tracing lines at the back of her hand and such a simple touch soothed the war within only to have it rage again. "I wanted to protect you, to save you. They said you wouldn't be allowed back in the Navy. Chegwidden wouldn't be able to bend the rules, not this time. I couldn't see you working for them, not because of me ...The agency isn't the place for you."

"Or you." He tucked his finger under her chin and made her look up at him. "You shouldn't have gone to them. When I resigned my commission I knew what I was doing and I fully expected never to return to JAG. "Do you know why I did it?"

Mac sighed. She knew damned well what had fueled his past and this current search for her. It had nothing to do with friendship or duty. She knew what drove him in regards to her only, Mac wouldn't admit it to herself. "I shouldn't have gone with Webb but, I had to. You would have done the same."

She was right, he knew. Harm too would have followed the spook if asked out of his sense of duty. "Mac, you're in danger." Harm filled her in on all of the details that Webb had presented him with and was glad that she was receptive this time around. He explained about the Phonebook and how agents were being dispensed easily. The only thing he couldn't understand was, "Keeter, what the hell happened?" He hadn't had time to think about shooting his former best friend as he was far too concerned with Mac's health.

Now it, he felt the pain and the nagging feeling that something else could have stopped him. Only, if faced with Keeter's death or Mac's, Harm knew he would make the same choice - it was her and it always would be. "I know you don't want to hear this but, he was a double agent and had been for some time… I think the only reason he didn't try to kill me sooner was because of you and because we were friends."

Harm didn't want to believe her, but he remembered seeing Keeter push her under the water, intent on drowning her. The look in his eyes wasn't that of his lifelong friend, it was someone he didn't know - a killer. "He tried to kill you, I had to take the shot."

"I'm so sorry that happened. I've been trying so hard to keep you far away from me. You were never meant to get caught up in any of this." She squeezed their entwined hands and sighed heavily. "He tried to keep me out of it too I just… I was too focused on finishing the mission to see the signs." It dawned on her that during the shoot out in the club there was no reason for half of her team to have been killed. They were all skilled agents. "I am sure he killed half of my team to get them out of the way."

"Out of the way of what exactly? What was Jack involved in?"

"I broke into the home of the CSIS Minister of Public Safety. She became involved with a former Russian liaison and had been leaking intel. I copied a USB drive that had information on both the US Consulate and Embassy here in Canada which I gave to Keeter to pass to his connection in New York. That's how we worked. I would dig up info and Keeter would pass it to someone at the border." She bit her lip in thought. 'Harm was right about the phonebook. Cloutier has someone on the inside who stole it.'

Harm eyed Mac as she stood and began to pace like a lion in a cage. "What is it?"

"I have the phonebook, or a copy of it, at least." She told him as she continued to pace. When she had taken the info from Cloutier, Mac had created a backup for herself, just in case. "I gave Keeter a drive to pass onto his contact but, I kept a copy… It's why he told me I knew too much. I just didn't realize how much." There were folders that she'd never checked and information that Mac just did understand how to break into. "Damnit. They aren't after me because the Phonebook is compromised. They are after me because_ I have_ the phonebook."

Harm eyed her up and down. "You have it on you now?"

"No. I gave Keeter one copy and the other is in my apartment…. Damnit." Mac pressed her hands together, rubbing him hard as she cursed. "If Keeter had his copy still on him…Someone could have taken it."

"Cross that bridge when we get there, it's not like we can do anything about it right now." He motioned out the window to the weather that had grown increasingly worse. "Are we safe here?"

"Yes." Mac said with certainty. "When I started at the agency, Webb tried to help me out as much as possible." He had created an untraceable bank account for her as a way to keep Mac out of trouble. "No one knows about the houseboat. Not Webb. Not Keeter and no one in the agency." It was bought for cash under an alias and she would occasionally check on the home and made sure it was stocked, just in case.

Mac kept the bare minimum there, spare clothes, non-perishables, cash and a small boat that she could use for escape if needed. It ran off the grid with solar panels, batteries and a few other gadgets that she learned to jury-rig. "I have enough food to last a few months if needed. Canned goods, MREs. Chocolate." She said with a sly smile. There were a few things that girls always needed, chocolate was one of those. "Are you hungry?"

She had begun pacing again, her mind running a million miles an hour as she tried to find a safe way to get to her apartment that the USB drive she had hidden where no one would find.

"Famished." He said, but it wasn't for food. Harm was starving for her. "Mac?"

Mac didn't notice his eyes on her or the way he'd taken a keen interest when the bottom of the towel brushed her thigh. It had also dropped somewhat lower on her chest, exposing a bit more of the valley between her breasts. When she made another pass in front of him, Harm stood up and stopped her. She crashed against him, using her hands against his chest to brace herself. "Comman...Harm."

He didn't say a word, merely reached up to where she'd tucked the towel and pulled it loose. It fell from her and pooled to the ground, leaving Mac completed naked in front of him. Harm was breathing hard and he could feel his erection begin to strain almost painfully. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled Mac towards him as his mouth sought out a spot on her neck that had made her moan hours before. "Harm, no."

The moment he'd stripped the towel from her, Mac wanted him as well. She could feel her body reacting to his nearness, that sweet ache as her core clenched, anticipating him inside her. Yet, her hands came back up to his chest and she pushed him away. "I can't." He'd already done enough damage and Mac needed to keep whatever shred of sanity she had left.

She wanted him badly but was afraid of how much more it would cost her if she let him. '_There Will Never Be An Us._' The mantra began to kick into overdrive in the back of her mind and the faintest hint of a headache joined the battle. Mac made to turn away from him and his heady gaze that was making her body quiver. "Please, I can't."

"Okay." Still, his lips came over hers intent on kissing her softly and nothing else. But, what began as a slow kiss quickly grew to something more when Harm went to pull away as she wished. He wouldn't force himself on her again.

Instead, Mac drew him back to her, her hands threading through the hair at the back of his head as she brought his lips back to hers. Her heart was hammering, her mind trying to find another defense mechanism to make her stop. Instead, she followed her heart, needing the closeness _of the man that she… 'There will never be an…'_

Her hands slid down his chest to his waist, finding the edges of the towel that she pulled free so that it pooled the floor with her own. She ignored the protest lingering on the edges of her mind and merely reached out to touch him.

"Mac." Harm's breath hitched when she took a firm hold of his growing erection. He was surprised to find her trailing licks and kisses from his chest down to his abdomen and lower. "Oh, God. Mac."

Her hand was stroking him slowly, gently applying pressure before she dropped to her haunches and took Harm's cock into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around the tip before sucking him slowly. She took him into her mouth as much as she could. Mac felt his whole body stiffen as she began to move her mouth over his shaft. Her hands gripped his hips, holding him still while she was taking him leisurely, her mouth neary making his knees buckle from the pleasure.

Harm didn't dare question the push and pull from her, he knew that she was fighting some battle that he didn't quite understand. Instead, he gripped Mac by the shoulders and helped her stand. "I want you, now." He raised her up by the hips and threw her onto the bed following along so that his body covered hers seconds later.

His hands skimmed up the sides of her body, threading with Mac hands which he pinned down above her head as he kissed her. She tried to loosen his grip but he only held her down harder.

"Harm, I want to touch you." Mac said as she struggled against his hold. She ached to run her hands over his body and feel the hard ridges of his muscles on her fingertips.

She groaned in frustration when he used one of his larger hands to pin down both of hers. His other hand came over her breast. "Harm please." Her legs came up around his waist as she tried to buckle against him. "Please."

Harm released his grip on her and almost chuckled when her hands moved over him. She started at his shoulders and then moved over his chest and around to the expanse of his back and down his ass. "Your beautiful." She admitted as one hand slipped between them taking his length in her hand. "Please, Harm."

He guided himself slowly into her depths and remained impossibly still as she accommodated to his size. Their first time had practically been savage and this time he wanted to take his time and really make love to her. "I love you, Mac." He pulled out of her and thrust into her beginning a slow, methodical movement.

Mac matched him thrust for thrust, raising up to take him in deeper. "Faster." She practically begged, needing to feel the heady release that she'd only experienced with him.

Harm's hands began moving up her body, skimming her ribs and up her arms until he threaded his hands with hers again. He pinned her hands down as his body loved hers. The feeling of being held down and controlled by Harm made her desire much more ardent.

He increased his pace fueled by Mac's words of encouragement and the delicious way she moaned his name. Releasing her, he slipped a hand between them and began to massage her clit with his thumb. "Oh. Harm."

Mac's hands wrapped around his forearms, gripping tightly when one exquisite wave of orgasm washed over her. Harm quickened his thrusts as he felt his body about to tumble over the edge. He cried out her name as he came.

Even as he spilled himself into her, Harm kept thrusting until she came again. Exhausted, he rolled off of her and onto his back trying to catch his breath. "Christ, Mac what you do to me."

After a few minutes he rolled to his side and pulled Mac to him. "I love you, Mac… I need you to know that."

And something about his admission tore at her heart. No matter what she felt, Mac couldn't admit it not to him or herself. She sighed when he leaned forward and kissed her.

His lips moved over hers slowly and it wasn't desired that charged Harm's action but love. He kissed her recently as his arm held her close to him. "I mean it, Mac. I love you and I always will."

Mac kissed him back in order to stop his worst or worse, stop him from asking what she felt in kind. "I know, Harm. I know." His grip tightened on her and she could see his eyes growing heavy. "Sleep, Harm. I promise I'm not going anywhere."


	16. Demons

The intro to this one, stick it out it's not as bad as you think.

There's a sweet interact between our star crossed lovers. Yeah, it's angsty in the words of Ursula from The Little Mermaid "It's what I do, it's what I live for." Heheh.  
So this story should end in 20 chapters at least, that is the goal.

I actually have the ending written just need to fill the blanks that will be 17, 18 and 19.  
Have some patience with me as I have a few ideas, none of which I like. Plus, my muse is a bitch. :/

**CHAPTER 16 -DEMONS**_  
When I speak I cross my fingers  
__Will you know you've been deceived?  
__I find a need to be the demon  
__A demon cannot be hurt_  
"Demons" by Guster.

When Mac awoke she expected to be in his arms, not an empty bed. It was cold In the spot where he should have been sleeping and when she sat up, Mac saw why. "No."

Harm was tied to a metal chair, legs bound with duct tape to each leg and his arms were behind his back. His head hung down and droplets of blood were slowly dripping from the side of his face. He was naked.

She hurried to his side and stopped, horrified at what she found. There was barely an inch of skin unmarred. His face was severely bruised, one eye socket clearly broken by the way it had swelled.

His torso had marks across it as if someone had repeatedly struck him with a whip. The same injuries continued lower and Mac's breath hitched. "Oh God." She swallowed down the bile that rose in her throat and managed to push two fingers to his neck finding a slow but steady pulse. How he had survived the abuse was a miracle.

Mac's fear for him turned into anger and when she made to cut his bindings, she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Did you miss me, Sarah?"

"Sadik." She should have known the agency couldn't handle him. When Clay had told her the terrorist had been killed, she should have asked for proof.

The man smiled fondly at her and cast an appreciative glance at her naked body. He pressed something cold and metallic into her right hand and Mac looked down to find a 9mm pistol with a suppressor screwed to the barrel. "Your lover is a strong man. He didn't even scream, not once."

Why the hell was he putting a gun into her hand? "Because we are friends, I'm going to give you two options." Casually, he leaned against a small table and smiled at her.

Mac glanced over at Harm finding each wound bleeding more and more, opening before her very eyes. Blood was dripping off of his body as if he'd been drenched in it. She pointed the gun at Sadik and pulled the trigger, but the weapon wouldn't fire.

By the weight, Mac knew it was fully loaded with one in the chamber. She tried again, desperately pulling at the trigger but, getting no response. "Two choices, Sarah. Not three." He straightened and turned her to face Harm. "Shoot him or I will continue to torture him. I will make you watch as I revive him and start again and again and again. Only you can set him free."

"No." Hadn't she wanted this? Didn't she want him dead and gone? Wasn't she keen on ending his life? "Harm." His name on her lips sounded so foreign. She couldn't stop her hand from raising and aiming the pistol at Harm's head. Her hand shook and with a quick breath she did the unthinkable and pulled the trigger.

"Harm!" Mac tried to move but, a hard, male body surrounded her. She was draped over him, head formerly resting on his chest until she looked up to find those aquamarine eyes filled with concern. She had been dreaming.

"Mac?" He tightened his grip on her and turned them so that they were laying side by side. "What is it?"

"Nightmare." She said quietly and took a deep breath. Something about it felt too intense, too real. Sadik was dead, wasn't he? Why did this feel like some sort of premonition? Mac had tried so hard to keep Harm out of her work with the CIA and yet, here he was in the thicke of it. And if Sadik were alive, would he go after Harm too?

"About me?"

"You and me… How'd you know?"

"You screamed my name." His hand moved over her bad shoulder, tracing the scar with his finger tips only to replace them with his lips. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Kinda forgot you had surgery when I pinned your arms down." He rather enjoyed seeing her fully stretched out beneath him and that cute, annoying glare when he immobilized her.

"Therapy. Full range of motion." She said against his lips when Harm kissed her. "Not in pain." Mac licked his lower lip and slipped her tongue inside his mouth when he deepened the kiss.

"What was the dream about?" He asked as his lips left her mouth and moved to her neck.

"Sadik…"

Harm's mouth that began a trail from her neck to her chest stopped at the mention of the terrorists name. He raised his head up and looked at her. "There was a task force sent for thim. He's dead Mac." At least that's what Webb had told him.

"So was Clay."

As much as he hated to admit it, Mac had a point. If Webb could fake his death so easily it wasn't hard to imagine Sadik doing the same. "Touché." It was another thing added to the growing list of problems that neither of them could deal with at the moment. "Premonition or a nightmare?"

Mac sighed, she didn't want to consider that on top of everything she now had to deal with Sadik could be out there, stalking them. "It's probably nothing."

Harm glanced out the window to find the storm still raging, a sure sign they would be there a little while longer, at least in the houseboat they were safe. "Too bad we can't just stay here forever."

Mac smiled for the first time in what it felt like forever. There were worse places to be than wrapped in his arms and forgetting the world outside. "You mean having sex and sleeping our lives away?"

"Sounds good to me." His mouth came back to the spot on her neck that he found so tempting.

"Add something to eat and I'll see what I can work out." She moaned when his teeth nipped over her skin and she wondered why it took so long for them to be intimate. It was the worst possible time and yet, Mac couldn't help herself. From the moment he began touching her, the walls she'd erected began to crumble. She wanted more of his touch and the safety of his arms. Never could she have dreamed he'd be so attentive and passionate.

Each kiss made her want to drown in him forever. God she wanted to be his fully and tell Harm what she felt for him for so long. Only the words wouldn't come, the closest she would get was his name on her lips. It was the one part of herself that she wasn't willing to give to him. She couldn't, not like this - not after what she'd done. Mac felt unshed tears stinging her eyes knowing that their time together would end and eventually, she would have to leave him.

The thought tore at her and she longed to find a way to keep them together but couldn't. It wouldn't be fair to him. Mac wouldn't put him through that life, not knowing where she was or if she was coming home. And then there was the demon still in her, a darkness that she could feel hiding in the edges of her mind. The problem was that Harm would follow her to the end of the Earth if needed, especially now when there was nothing else separating them but her.

"What's wrong, Mac? You're a million miles away." Harm's eyes shone with concern and he tightened his hold on her.

She ran a hand over his face and the stubble that had grown. It felt oddly good on her skin especially when he kissed her neck. The contrast of the softness of his lips and the rough stubble was erotic to her. "You didn't shave."

"Do you want me to?"

"I kinda like the scruff." Mac said and laughed when he rubbed his chin on her cheek. The sound made him relax although Harm could sense an odd tension. She was keeping something from him.

"I don't like the sadness in your eyes. What aren't you telling me?" He wanted to insist on an answer but her lips captured his in a slow kiss. Harm kissed her back but broke the kiss abruptly. "It's something more than the phonebook…"

"_Harm_." Mac draped a leg over his hip, opening herself to him. She slipped her hand between them and gently began to stroke him. Her actions worked, taking his mind away from a conversation she wasn't willing to have. His eyes closed when she touched him and his body's response to her was almost immediate. "I need you." Her sultry voice made him push aside the questioning as his hips moved in time with her hand that was slowly stroking his passion.

Harm's own hand came between them, fingers finding her wet and ready for him. "I need you." She said again and moved to align her hips with his and guided him into her. "Slow this time...I just...I need to feel." Mac said shyly.

Harm kept eye contact with her as he slowly moved in and out of her. Her eyes were half lidded, lips parted when she moaned softly each time he entered her. His body soon glistened with sweat at the restraint it took for him not to thrust harder. He wanted to bury himself inside her and never pull away.

Mac's hand came to his face as she leaned in and kissed him in time with his movements. "Sarah." Why did he have to say her name? Why did it have to sound so right coming from him? She felt the tears sting her eyes again and Mac pulled him close so that she could bury her face against his shoulder as she cried.

She could hear him say her name again followed by another affirmation of love that Mac wished she'd never heard. In her mind she admitted to herself the words she wouldn't say out loud to him.

_I love you, Harm. _

…_._

A few hours later he woke up to an empty bed yet again. Frustrated, Harm rolled onto his back and sighed. He propped himself up on his elbows and found Mac fully clothed and standing by the stove. The smell of something delectable assaulted his senses and he felt his stomach grumble. "What smells so good?"

"Canned soup. All I have are non perishables and MREs." She shrugged. Mac had also found a box or two of crackers that she placed on the small table by the stove. "Your clothes are dry." She motioned to the end of the bed and from her tone Harm knew it was a silent request for him to dress which he did after showering and shaving.

They ate in companionable silence and he could practically hear the wheels turning in her mind. She didn't look at him, merely stared at the window lost somewhere in thought. It wasn't an awkward 'morning after' tension, it was something else altogether and Harm could sense the change in her, the distance although she was inches away from him. He wasn't sure where to start or what to tell her until Mac broke the silence. "You aren't safe here. First course of action is to get you back home." Her voice was woody sounding, emotionless and all business.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Mac locked eyes with his to see the determination there and that arrogance of a jet jock, military man who could solve all problems. Only, this wasn't the military and the stakes were a little higher when dealing with so many unknowns. "This isn't a game, Harm. You could be killed."

"And you have no back up." He pointed out sadly, unwilling to think about his former friend and the betrayal brought on by Keeter. When Mac made to object, he held a hand up to silence her. "Hear me out. I may not know a damned thing about your assignment but, I am good with weapons and let's face it, things generally run smoother when were together."

He was right, of course. A much as the two of them could be nothing but trouble, working together usually solved things when they were both in the military. That wasn't the case any longer, he didn't know just how FUBAR things could get and how quickly. "This isn't the military. there is no ROE to follow or SOPs. Everything happens quicker, in a split second and all of the information we have is hazy at best. I'm not even sure where to start."

"There's a cop that helped me find you. He works for Clay, I think he could help."

"Marx, I know him. He's helped Keeter out a time or two." She didn't like the man too much, but knew he could be trusted. "That may be a good start."

"You take the lead, Colonel. Whatever you ask of me I'll do without question."

She eyed him suspiciously. Through all of the years when they worked together, he rarely let her take the lead. That alpha male, macho side of him always wanted to be first without question. It made them bump heads too many times and was a constant source of irritation that often made her feel like a sidekick over a partner. It was amusing to see him asquised so easily but then, he knew nothing of her assignment. "Without question?"

To prove his point, Harm came to his feet and stood at perfect attention, eyes locking on a spot on the other side of the room. "I'll do whatever you want ma'am."

"At ease, Commander." She said with a soft smile. "We do make a good team."

Harm nodded. "The best." He reached across the table and took her hand in his. His touch was gentle, loving as his thumb stroked her skin. The banter between them died then and she physically pulled away and settled back, those eyes of hers meeting his almost unseeing. "What?"

"You can't touch me anymore… not the way…" Mac swallowed hard and closed her eyes as she tried to ignore such a simple touch that made her come alive. "I can't do my job if…This has to stop." She motioned between them and her eyes glinted with a combination of sadness and resentment. "You're my work partner and nothing else." She declared in a tone that he'd heard from her before when she'd been angry and trying to make a point. There was no reasoning with her when she spoke to him that way.

"Is it really that easy for you to slip back into it?" The idea made a flash of pain grip at his heart at the thought of any progress they'd made being erased so easily. Harm reminded himself that this wasn't the woman he knew once. She wasn't _his_ Mac anymore, no amount together would change that as long as she worked for _them._ He feared what she would go back to, the unrelenting monster that had tried to kill him. "Will you forget?"

"I have to." She said with finality as Mac closed her eyes and began repeating her mantra to herself. She felt the vestiges of the headaches start although they were much more measured and controlled. Distantly, she could hear his voice calling out to her, warning her not to do this, that there had to be another way. When she opened her eyes, she felt the icy professionalism slide back into place. "It'll be okay, Commander."

'_There will never be an us.'_


	17. I Bring You Hell

Been a WHHHHILE with this one mainly because I got stuck on where it was going once Harm and Mac were intimate.

It is a dark story so kudos if you've stuck around. This is a bit of a filler chapter.

I have the ending of the story fully written (just need to edit) and the penultimate chapter's dialogue done. Just need to write up chapter 18.

Thank you for the reviews, even the bad ones. I know die hard Harm fans are horrified at Mac's treatment of him but, don't be too harsh. At the moment, she isn't herself and can't seem to fully break the CIA's hold on her.

Fear not, I am a shipper at heart... Fate will bring them together forever. ;)

**CHAPTER 17 - I Bring You Hell**  
**"Bloodlust tonight  
****Now I can't control my venom's flow  
****Get back from me demon, or be exorcised"**  
**"Hell" By Disturbed**

Mac brought an old Nissan Sentra to a stop about a block away from her apartment building in downtown Toronto. They had ditched the car Harm had hot wired and taken the compact vehicle that she stored in a container adjacent to the houseboat. It was another one of Webb's suggestions that she'd taken to heart - a vehicle ready to go at a moments notice. Nothing too flashy or gas guzzling; just a practical method of transportation should she have to flee and travel for a length of time.

"I call the shots, Commander, remember that." She said suddenly, staring out to the streets that had been freshly plowed. Though the worst of the storm had passed, flurries were still lazily falling and the grey clouds overhead were still ominous in nature. "Stay here."

Harm grabbed her forearm when she made to hop out of the vehicle. "You're not going in alone."

"I wasn't asking." Mac leveled him with an icy glare that meant he wasn't to interfere. "Stay here. Don't piss me off, Commander, that's an order." Finally, she hopped out of the car and quickly hurried down the block disappearing into an alleyway just behind the building.

Harm couldn't have thought that such an about face was possible, not after the last few days. He'd bore the brunt of her anger and resentment in the past when he'd been an obstinate and impossible, a jerk because… well, because he knew how to push her buttons and did so effortlessly. But, this wasn't the wrath of a woman, not in the pure essence of the word. This was a kind of impassive hatred and she aimed it at him as if Harm was the root of all her problems, an evil that needed to be deal with swiftly and with prejudice.

She was clearly annoyed to have him by her side which hurt him in a way he couldn't quite explain. The last couple of days they had been together, intimate but, it was so much more than amazing sex. He felt something powerful, a closeness he could never imagine sharing with anyone else and it cemented a bond that he knew was unbreakable now.

They had kept eye contact the last time they made love and he saw all that hope wasn't lost for them. He could get her back… would get her back as soon as her assignment and the search for the Phonebook concluded. It seemed to him that even she had grown weary of the agency and the methodology used to control her. 'You broke me.' He could hear her voice in his head, affirming that Harm had managed to chip away at some of her control if not all of it.

And then, it was like a switch had been flipped. The same eyes that had stared at him lovingly were now inexplicably dark and angry. She spoke to him in a harsh tone and it was all Harm could do to not shake some sense back into Mac. The only reason why he took her change was because he knew it kept her safe albeit like a grenade whose pin had been yanked out and held in an iron fist ready to blow.

Harm couldn't rid the eerie feeling that something was wrong. He felt the adrenaline tingle under his skin, making him edgy and the source was Mac. "Aww hell." He killed the engine, hopped out of the car and hurried in her general direction. She was going to kill him.

Mac made it in through the service entrance at the rear of the building and decided to take the stairs. Slowly slowly ascending to the fourth floor where the loft was. The higher she went the more the hair at the back of her neck stood on edge. Something was off and if her senses weren't enough, the fact that loft door was ajar was evidence to an intruder.

She gripped her 9mm Sig Sauer tightly and pressed herself into the outside wall, ready to kick in the door and walk in and obliterate anyone inside. A noise down the hall brought her attention away from the loft and Mac pointed the pistol towards the stairwell.

Harm was lucky she wasn't the type to have an itchy trigger finger. He'd made it up the steps as quietly as possible only to be faced with the barrel of her gun. "I ordered you to stay in the car, Commander!" She whispered and resisted the urge to knock him out with her weapon and keep him out of her way.

"You clearly need the back up." He motioned at the open door and grinned when she rolled her eyes. Quietly, he racked the pistol he'd been carrying which was part of Mac's stash from the houseboat. "You take low, I take high…In three…" Two. One. He mouthed the rest of the countdown and kicked open the door before she could say otherwise.

The loft was in complete disarray. Clothing had been strewn across the floor. Kitchen cabinets stripped of what little food was stored inside. The refrigerator was left open and the stench of rotten food permeated the area. Decorative pillows that once adorned the sofa had been gutted and the stuffing had been tossed haphazardly on the ground.

Despite this not being her actual apartment, a hint of sadness made Mac's shoulders slump involuntarily. The destruction reminded her of a time when something similar had happened to her place in Georgetown. She had painstakingly created a home for herself in Toronto although the whitewashed walls and overall industrial feel wasn't really her style. She had decorated it with a more modern look made to suit the trendy woman she was portraying. And now, not a single inch of the place remained intact. Even the pictures on the wall had been tossed to the ground and shattered. "Fuck." She cursed as broken glass crunched underneath her boots.

"I'm so sorry, Mac." Harm had noticed the change but, pushed aside his innate want to comfort her. "Mac." He motioned to the door and the sounds of footsteps outside. They glanced at one another and immediately trained there pistols at the door to find one Detective Anthony Marx casually strolling in.

Mac was on him in an instant using a well placed hold to disable a larger opponent, she had him down on the ground, wincing in pain while she disarmed him. Harm closed and locked the door and then came to Mac's aid, taking the two pistols she'd pulled off the detective. "Why are you here?" Webb told Harm that Marx was to be trusted but, given what had happened with Keeter, he wasn't sure anymore. The agency was in an almost complete disarray leaving few people of confidence, he wouldn't make a mistake that would cost their lives.

The Detective sighed and shifted a bit on the ground trying to find some comfort which was difficult to do with Mac's boot at his throat. "I never made it to Keeter's contact in Buffalo. I was run off the road on the way down so I decided to lay low for a few days until I could make it back here. Only two guys in ski masks were tearing the place apart." He glanced at Mac nervously and swallowed hard. "Colonel, they took the drive off me, I'm sorry. You have a copy, right?"

Mac removed her foot from his neck and stepped back remaining silent, cautiously surveying what was left of her once pristine apartment. Marx had never let her down before and was someone that came well recommended by Webb, whom she trusted. Nevertheless, she confided in Keeter both as a friend and a partner, his betrayal still stung although she didn't want to process it. Looking up at Harm, she could read in his eyes a similar sentiment. His oldest friend, one that he'd risked his life for - a friend he killed to save her.

"I can't get a hold of Jack. Been trying for days, even went to his place." He glanced between Harm and Mac noticing they both held a similar expression of grief. "What?"

"Keeter's dead."

Marx seemed to be in shock. "They got to him didn't they?"

Harm shook his head. "Jack was working for someone else. I ah… he...he tried to kill the Colonel, I had to shoot him." He swallowed down the bile that had risen in his throat and took a deep breath. Harm's mind would never erase the memory of Keeter trying to drown Mac from his mind. It was still freshly vivid as if occurring before him at that very moment. There was no other way to save her and sadly, he knew his oldest friend was beyond reprieve. "Keeter's dead." He really hadn't processed the fact until this very moment when it hit him that Jack was willing to kill for greed. The concept saddened Harm and made him feel ashamed that someone he loved and respected like an older brother had betrayed them.

"I'm sorry, Commander. I thought Jack was a good guy."

Mac had begun to walk the apartment slowly, her mind trying to wrap around Marx's involvement. There was a sense to her, call it a female intuition that told her he was lying. She was confident in her assessment and was going to squeeze the intel out of him at any cost. "You aren't a part of this are you Detective?" She strolled to the kitchen stopping at the counter where a magnetic strip was bolted to the cement wall. On it were attached a line of knives each varying in length and width.

"Me?" Marx pointed his index finger to his chest and scoffed. "What are you asking, Colonel?"

Mac pulled off the chef knife, balancing the weight of it in her hands. The cool metal called to her flipping that switch within that made her an infallible agent with emotional detachment.

Carefully she rounded the kitchen bar and walked towards both men with an impassive expression that troubled Harm."Torture isn't really my thing. Too messy. But, I'm tired of being lied to." She seemed to be enjoying the sort of taunt, accentuated by the way she ran an index finger along the edge of the knife. "I'm willing to make an exception in your case."

"Mac, don't." Harm said, but his words came too late as she raised the knife and slammed it into Marx's left thigh with pinpoint accuracy.

"You fucking bitch!" Marx howled in pain. When he attempted to reach for Mac, she twisted the knife enough to cause another wave of searing pain through his leg. "No! Stop! Please, God, stop!"

Harm stood over her, his hands grabbing Mac's shoulders only to have her shrug them off. "Mac, what the hell are you doing?!"

"Stand down, Commander." She turned to Harm giving him an icy glare that told him it was better not to interfere. "This is between the Detective and me." She grabbed the knife's handle and yanked it out of Marx's thigh only to slam it between his legs narrowly missing his crotch. "Next pass I go for your balls, Detective. Quickly, what do you know?"

Marx glanced between the knife impaled just an inch away from his member and Mac's steely eyes. From what Keeter had told him about the woman, she had always been strong and resilient, an unwavering force to be reckoned with. Once she had been friendly and kind, things that the CIA had taken from her in order to turn Mac into something of an automatic killing machine. She scared Keeter in her current state which made it easier for him to try and kill her. "The drive you gave Jack wasn't complete… The phonebook wasn't there. I tore this goddamn place apart looking for it. It's just my fucking luck you got here when you did."

Harm was on him faster than a surface to air missile. He grabbed Marx by the throat and slammed his head back into the wall. "You did this?"

"You stupid sonofabitch, Rabb. Couldn't leave it alone. Jack and me, we should have let you bleed to death from that bullet wound." He jabbed Harm on his torso, just over the spot where he'd been shot only to chuckle when Harm winced. "Jack had a soft spot for you, his oldest friend. Hadda make sure you wouldn't die. Fucking pussy he was."

The ache of betrayal was running deeper and deeper within Harm. From finding Mac so changed to the point of malevolence, to having to shoot his best friend and now this. His head was starting to pound relentlessly. What the hell had he gotten himself into? "Webb trusted you. He swore I could too."

Marx shrugged. His betrayal was simple really, "Webb doesn't pay as well as he used to."

"Money? That's what drives you?" Mac stared at him with disgust and an eerie sickening feeling came over her.

"Yeah, lots of it." Marx grinned. "Keeter needed help getting the info you stole, making sure only parts of it got to the CIA so they wouldn't suspect and bring in the calvary."

If impartial information was getting to the agency, Mac could only surmise who Keeter and Marx were working for. There was always a slew of entities that were pissed off enough at the government to start a jihad with their own agenda. Each time one was taken down, another would pop up to carry the torch and make an already tedious job endless. "Who were you selling the intel to?"

Marx groaned as he shifted to sit up against the wall, his hand coming to hold tightly over the gash that was heavily leaking blood now. He fought a wave of dizziness and nausea with several deep breaths. "I never cared until rumor had it you had the Phonebook. Christ, you have no fucking idea how much it's worth."

"Try me."

"Billions." When Mac's face fell, Marx could only laugh. "Yeah, you heard that right. Billions with a B." The information on drive it would completely destroy the CIA and its counterparts. There wouldn't be an agent alive to carry out a single assignment and the ramifications would trickle to sister agencies worldwide leaving officers running for their lives, eventually being caught, killed or worse. Mac knew first hand that there were fates worse than death.

Harm straightened and began pacing the loft, the broken glass crunching beneath his feet with his movements. What had he gotten himself into? Worse yet, what had the CIA gotten Mac into and how could he help her? "We need to get a hold of Webb, asap."

"How?" Mac asked, turning to Marx for answers. "How do we get in touch with him?" When Marx didn't answer, Mac let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm really not in the mood for games, Detective." She reached out with her hand and gripped his injured leg squeezing as hard as possible over the bleeding wound. At first, the detective tried to remain impassive but, another strong grip and he howled out in pain. "Tell me or so help me I'll make good on my promise."

"Aren't you gonna stop her?" Marx asked Harm to find the Naval officer shaking his head seemingly unconcerned. "Commander! Please!" When Harm merely looked away, Marx motioned to the pocket of his jacket. "Pocket. Cell phone. Dial 727, say 'Prestige' and Webb will call back." He let out a deep breath when Mac released him.

Mac retrieved the phone and handed it to Harm. "Check to see if it's bugged." He took the phone and pulled it apart from the battery searching the device for some sort of tracker but, finding none.

"Don't move." Harm warned Marx and followed Mac who had disappeared into the bathroom and was flushing the toilet countless times. "Mac, what are you…" He trailed off as he found her sitting on closed lid with her hands digging through the now empty tank to produce the floating part of the toilet's fill valve. Mac took the device and pressed with both her thumbs on a certain part making the top half give away and open. Inside, encased in several plastic baggies was the thumb drive.

"Clever." Harm said with a grin, taking the small package which she pressed into his hand and he promptly slipped into the front pocket of his jeans. "Is this the part where you tell me to guard it with my life?"

Mac rolled her eyes at him and stood up then placed the lid back over the tank. "Guard it with our life, Commander."

When they stepped back outside, Marx was in the same spot still holding tightly to the wound on his thigh. His skin had taken on a sickly pallor and he could feel his body weakening, making it even taxing to breathe. "You're going to die soon, detective. When I twisted the knife, I'm pretty sure I nicked the femoral artery. I can't be too exact through your jeans but, I am fairly confident." One of the instructors at the Farm had showed Mac where to stab to let someone bleed out a little slower without completely severing the artery, but it wasn't something that she practiced. "Technically, you should have bled out by now." She told him casually and motioned for Harm to follow her out of the apartment.

Marx would have laughed at her if the statement wasn't true. He felt the life slipping from him, a sticky warmth that was surrounding his body. "Colonel, Commander."

"You're gonna leave him?" Harm stopped in front of the detective warring with himself over trying to get the man help or leaving him to die.

When he glanced at Mac who had her hand on the doorknob, she just shrugged. "Once we get a hold of Clay, I'll have him send a clean up team." And with that, she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

When Harm turned back to Detective Marx, the man was dead.


	18. The Mission

**Chapter 18 - The Mission**  
_"My mission saved the world_  
_And I stood proud_  
_My mission changed the world_  
_It turned my life around."_  
_"The Mission" By Queensryche_

Harm sat in the back of a black SUV staring out of the window as it raced through the Canadian highways that lead to Montreal. The silence that stretched out between he and Mac was practically deafening even muffling the vehicular sounds as the tires spun quickly on the pavement below. They had been on the road for over two hours and that impassive anger had returned, replacing the woman that he loved with someone he didn't know...

...Hours ago, after leaving Marx to his fate, the pair had returned to Mac's safehouse where she was able to carefully sort through all of the files on the thumbdrive to find that, indeed, not everything she'd seen had been saved. "Things are missing. The computer in the panic room had so much more. Damnit!." She slammed a fist into her desk in anger, startling Harm who was in the kitchen making some sort of lunch for them. "I pulled the drive out too soon."

"What's the plan?" He asked curiously knowing that he was in deep with her as well. Harm wouldn't let her go alone.

Mac stood and began pacing the small houseboat, her mind going a million miles an hour as she tried to put a plan in order, something that made sense. "I need to get back into Cloutier's and get all of the information." Stealing the whole computer and the various things she'd found in Cloutier's safe room was nearly impossible with all of the security and the fact that she needed to blend with other guests. She was alone for her last mission but, this time, with Harm's help it would be easier. "It will be faster to grab everything with the two of us."

"Two of us huh? You trust me, Colonel?" He stepped in front of her, stopping Mac's pacing and drawing her into his arms. For a moment, a collective succession of breaths, she melted into him, seeking the heat of his body that made her feel safe and whole. But, the moment her brain realized her body was enveloped by his, Mac stepped back like she'd been burned. 'There will never be an us.' And then the headache kick started shaking her violently to the point that Mac grabbed the sides of her head and squeezed.

She stumbled backwards, falling to the floor and crawling away from Harm as he neared her, concern filling his beautiful eyes. "Don't! Please don't." Mac begged and, thankfully he stopped moving, giving her time to get her mind back under control. A warm and wet feeling slipped from her right nostril and Mac pressed her hand against it to find she was bleeding from her nose.

"Mac, let me help you." Only when he made to move towards her, Mac backed up farther until her back hit a wall.

"Don't Commander!" She practically begged, curling into a ball until her mind was better under control. "Please, Harm… Give me a minute." It would be several minutes later when Mac stood and gave him that ever impassive look as if the last moment had never occured. She wiped the blood from her nostril with the back of her hand and settled in the small chair set at the equally small table where a laptop sat with various gadgets attached to it.

Harm remained frozen, his brain trying to make fast work of what had happened and if it would happen again. He needed to get her out of the CIA as fast as possible and hoped that this assignment would be the start of that. "What are you doing?" He croaked out, clearing his throat from the lump that had settled at the back.

"Contacting Webb." Harm had given her the info, the alias that Webb was using on the ship and used a computerized communication that she claimed was safer than a burner phone. It was almost like a video game and with a series of clicks she entered into a chat room of sorts. He noticed her handle and couldn't help but grin as she quickly typed out.

_NingaGirl: Spyder, are you there?_

The cursor blinked a few times with no indication that the message was ever received until a prompt at the bottom signaled someone was typing.

_Spyder: Yes, Ninjagirl. How are you?_

_NingaGirl: Splendid._

A second later, a screen popped up to begin a video call. Webb was in his Navy uniform in what appeared to be an officer's stateroom. He seemed relieved to see them. "Mac, Rabb, good to see you both. What's going on? Did you find the Phonebook?"

"There's been a few problems." They discussed Marx, Keeter and their involvement with Cloutier's people, something that Webb didn't exactly find surprising. Mac told him about the Phonebook, the plans that smelled of terrorism and her desire to return to Cloutier's in order to salvage more information. And then Webb hit her with a bomb, something that he'd been privy to through black listed channels that he'd been accessing through the secure channels on the ship. "I was hoping to contact Marx with this information so that you and Keeter would have the heads up. Something big is happening, coordinates point to a mansion in Montreal which I assume is Cloutiers. How secure is that place, Mac?"

"It's basically a castle with a lot of land constantly guarded."

"I have a team ready, a small contingency of former military and agents that went under when rumors of the stolen Phonebook came across the line. They're on the move, I'm headed off this rust bucket within the hour to join them. You need to get there first, grab whatever information you can before it's destroyed and get the hell out. We'll handle the rest."

"Mac." Webb said her name with hesitation before she cut off the video conference. "I'm sorry you're wrapped up in this… I figured this would have been an easy intelligence gathering mission, nothing crazy."

She took a breath and shrugged, it was too late. "I seem to attract trouble… So does the Commander."

"Keep her safe, Harm." And then the video went black….

...They hadn't spoken since save a few directives that she had given him in order to secure weapons and other needed gadgetry for their assignment. He would never hurt her and yet he did and part of him wanted to stay in that houseboat forever as he tried to bring his Mac, his Marine back to him. It was like the few days he spent loving her hadn't happened and it caused an unbearable form of anguish within him. He needed to get her back and knew with certainty that wrapping up this mission was key.

Mac navigated the vehicle through the city and finally began driving through the suburbs to a specific area lined with mansions of varying sizes. She pulled off to a winding private road and stopped the car in a wooded area about half a mile away from the edge of the property.

She threw on a green MOLLE bag that had several gadgets inside along with ammo, then slung a rifle over her shoulder and left another rifle for Harm. They hurried through the woods stopping at the edge of the 6 foot high metal fence which lined the entire property.

From the bag Mac produced a plastic jar which she unscrewed. Inside the lid a brush was attached and a putrid smelling chemical wafted into the air. "What is that?" Harm asked just as Mac brushed the product onto the bars of the fence. He watched in awe as the chemical began to sizzle through the iron melting it. "Nevermind. So what exactly is your plan?"

Mac motioned to a small building near the house and produced a pair of binoculars which she gave him to him. "Zoom in on that building at three o'clock."

"Okay, looks like a guest house of sorts." He said, and then trained the binos on the expansive home and the guards with rifles that were guarding it. "This place is huge."

"It has sixty plus rooms and even hosted her majesty, the queen, once."

"Who the hell needs that many rooms?"

Mac shrugged at his question, although she'd wondered the same herself. Although the room she'd been given several days prior was rather nice. "Opulence. The Cloutier's have been filthy rich for centuries. I suspect she bought her way onto the CSIS with aspirations of making into politics where she could do some real damage."

"How do you wanna play this?" Harm asked, glancing at Mac to find her peering through another set of binos. She wasn't looking at the guest house but the expansive land the home sat on and the guards now patrolling the rear half of the mansion. "Mac? What's the plan here?"

She closed her eyes and consulted that internal clock that had been ticking down the seconds until Webb's team arrived provided transportation had not been delayed in any way. She needed to get into the guest house and secure as much as possible before Clouter's people set off a failsafe she was sure they had, a way to destroy information before anyone else found it. Mac could feel Harm's eyes on her and the weight of his concern that only fueled the headache. She had downed a handful of ibuprofen - it was practically part of her diet since Harm came back into her life - and yet it only dulled the pain.

And it was painful, it was only by sheer will that she managed to maintain her composure. The adrenaline also eased the ache, the thrill was part of the allure of her job, a drug she wasn't sure how to rid herself of. When Harm touched her shoulder Mac winced as if he'd burned her and he had in a way, she felt the seer of his touch both increase and decrease the ache in her head. It also sent an equal feeling of pain and love through her heart. She stared down at her hands that were now shaking.

"Your cold." Harm surmised and took her hands in his, blowing on them in hopes to keep her warm. He couldn't understand that it had to do with her warring emotions or the lancing pain that was making her vision tunnel.

She pulled her hands out of his and turned her head to brush away the tear that had fallen for reasons she couldn't understand. Whatever she did, whatever she tried, whatever lies she told herself, they had a history and a baggage of emotions that came with it. She loved him once so deeply and now… Damnit, she still did, no amount of Jedi mind tricks could erase him fully from her heart. Her mind on the other hand had other ideas and once a fresh wave of headaches began, Mac stood and moved into the woods to brace herself against a tree.

Her stomach muscles clenched and released, clearly upset by the pills that she had taken on an empty stomach. Dropping her MOLLE bag, she searched through one of the pockets to produce a protein bar that she quickly devoured. Harm had followed after some time, concern evident in his eyes even in the stillness of the night. There were questions, so many questions he wanted to ask but, thankfully he didn't. Instead, he pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to her. "Thanks." She croaked out, feeling marginally better once the food hit her system.

She motioned towards the estate and then unscrewed the cap from the bottle. "We have to get to the guest house, pull out everything we can from the safe room without getting caught before Webb's team arrives."

"How much time does that give us?

"Less than two hours. Assuming everything is alright."

"Drink more." He suggested when she nearly took a small gulp from the water bottle which earned him a stern look. "I barely see you eat or drink anything. I know you've been popping anti-inflammatories like candy."

"Drop it, Commander."

Harm sighed, "I don't wanna hassle you, just drink a bit more." He stepped away then and walked back to the fence, giving her space to sort through whatever was going on.

Reluctantly, Mac finished the bottle and placed the discard back inside her pack. She kneeled down and pulled out a small laptop, prompt typing in her password to gain access to a specific mainframe. The last time she'd been in the Cloutier mansion, she had broken into the security system and was quick to bring up the details again. She set up a timer that would cause a false alarm at the farthest room of the mansion and another that would run a similar alarm an hour and a half later.

That was all of the time she was giving them, the need to remain stealthy dictated a tight timeframe. Harm couldn't be found there and neither could she when her cover with CSIS had never been broken. She pulled out a smaller pack from the larger one, slung her rifle over her shoulder and joined Harm by the fence which had eroded away due to the chemical leaving enough space for them to crawl through. "I just set off the alarm. We should see them start to scramble soon. I'll take lead."

"Understood."

Like clockwork, the guards began to converge on the main building, rushing to the entrance and the garages to the side. "Go." Mac squeezed through the hole in the fence and Harm followed suit. The pair ran quickly, keeping low and ducking behind a string of small pine tries.

When the coast was clear, Mac hurried along, making it to the guest house and pressing against the wall of the building. When Harm arrived at her side, she began moving down the length of the building stopping at the same window she had used to get in the last time around.

Harm held a small MAGlite while Mac popped open the window and disabled the alarm system. She dropped into the room and kept her profile low urging him to do the same once he dropped down next to her. They remain crouched down as she quietly listened for movement inside the building finding they were alone.

He flipped the MAGlite so that it emanated a red And followed Mac as she went down the hallway and into the library. His mouth made a perfect O when she pressed her fingers into a spot on the frame of the wooden shelves and a soft "click" announced that she had unlock some sort of system.

What's the shelves cracked open, a white light flickered and finally came alive illuminating the small space. They stepped inside the room, and harm glanced at the monitors that lined the walls. "Keep an eye on those."

"Will do."

Mac pulled out a square device from her small bag and attached it with a cable to the laptop in the room. It would copy the entire drive leaving nothing out. "Commander, pull back the rug. There's a trap door."

He pulled his interest away from the monitors and did as told, opening the door to find a secret compartment with a two large metal suitcases. He made quick work of the locks finding one of the suitcases with wads of cash in different currencies. "Who is he?" Harm thumbed through some of the passports finding the same photo of a man in each one.

"The former Russian liaison that I told you about, Vasili Kuznetsov. Mrs. Cloutier has been having a secret affair with him for quite some time."

"KGB?"

"Not according to the Russians but, we know better." She pressed a few keys on the computer and took a breath, whatever security was on the device hadn't been tripped by her aggressive copying. "The other case, be careful. You don't want to break what's inside."

When he opened the case he saw why, inside lay various vials with some sort of orange liquid. "Do I want to know?"

Mac grinned, "Probably not. Harm, look." She pointed at the center monitor whose camera was pointed towards the front of the mansion. Several black suvs had pulled up the driveway and a few men with weapons stepped out followed by Kuznetsov and Cloutier. "Son of a bitch. Webb knew… of course he did." She laughed without merriment and resisted the urge to ram a fist into the stone wall. "That's why he's sending a team in. They hope to take Kuznetsov, we just happen to be in the way."

The monitors flickered suddenly along with the lights inside the room. Everything seemed to dim and when Mac gave another glance to the monitors she found someone outside the guest house. "Shit!"

"We gotta get out of here." Harm closed both cases, lined them up next to the opening and then closed the trap door. "Mac?"

She was seated in front of the laptop cursing when the transfer seemed to stall. "We can't. I can't leave until I get it all." Mac stood up, moved past him and pulled the door shut so if anyone were to walk into the library nothing would seem out of place. She glanced at the monitors again, realizing that the guard that was once outside had walked in.

"Aren't they gonna notice the alarm is disabled?" He whispered and then flipped the safety off on his rifle. Harm leaned against the rear wall and pointed the weapon towards the location of the door.

Mac shook her head. "Not unless they know what to look for… Most of them are inept except for one thing." Killing. They were hired to shoot on sight. "Damnit, another one just walked in." She noted keeping an eye on the monitor as two more men entered the small building. There were no cameras inside the guest house, no way to track which way the men had headed. "Don't make a sound." She told Harm and pressed her ear to the secret door hoping it was not as hermetically sealed as they usually were. Her hand pressed against the door and she was careful not to bump into the switch that would open it from the inside.

A barely noticeable vibration alerted her to movement in the room outside coming from the wooden floor that was likely over a hundred years old. The intensity of the vibrations increased and she could discern the faint sound of voices speaking French, just a word or two really but, enough for her to know that they were right outside.

Harm could hear his heartbeat in his ears, thumping so hard it made him shake. He brushed the bead of sweat that had slid down his face with his shoulder and maintained the rifle trained on the door. He wasn't sure how many rounds he could get off but, dammit they wouldn't take either of them without a fight.

Suddenly, Mac turned her head to face the monitors counting off as each of the men slowly exited the building. The lights inside the safe room flickered once again, dulling to a light hue and the the last guard exited the building. She let out the breath she'd been holding. "Stand down, they're gone." Mac hurried to the laptop giving a fist pump when she found that all of the information had been fully copied. "We can get out of here now."

"Wouldn't have been easier just to grab the laptop?"

He motioned at the computer to find Mac tugging at a thick cable that ran to the wall. "If I did, they would know which is why this had to be an inside job." She grabbed her equipment, placing it into a soft sided case padded in heavy foam before shoving it into her bag. "We need to hurry. Webb's team will be here in 10 and took us nearly that long to get here."

Only Mac had miscounted the amount of guards that entered the building and once Mac hit the switch to open the panic door, a shot sailed past her head hitting a monitor. She launched herself at the guard, both hitting the floor with an audible thud. It knocked the wind out of her and as Mac tried to come to her feet, the guard's arm came around her neck, threatening to squeeze the life out of her as his rifle had skirted across the floor.

Harm pointed his rifle trying to get a clean shot which was impossible with the two people squirming on the ground. If he missed, he would hit her only his attention shifted to movement out of the corner of his eye and another guard that had entered the library. He took aim, burying two bullets to his chest and one to the head of another guard that had walked in.

Mac brought her arms behind her head, grabbing her assailant's arm and pulling it down until she had it extended out in front of her. She turned her body slightly, wiggling out of his grasp when the man tried to choke her with just one arm. Finally, she was able to reach her thigh where a knife was sheathed into a leg holster. Grabbing the handle, she pulled it free and stabbed backwards countless times, its blade burying deep into the guards body with each trust until he fully let her go.

"Are you okay?"

She glanced up to find Harm offering her a hand which she gratefully took. "Yeah, bastard fought like a girl." Mac grabbed the knife still stuck into the guard and slipped it back into the holster. "Let's get out of here."


	19. Stumbling Over You

Okay kids! One more chapter to go... Thank you for the reviews and for sticking around.

This one has been a blast to write. _

**Chapter 19 - Stumbling Over You**

_Crossing my fingers and crossing the lines_

_Knew you are too good to be true_

_I can see perfectly from the corner of my eye_

_I never belonged to you_

"Stumbling Over You" by Serena Ryder

"I said I'm fine." Mac said slapping away the hand of a medic that was trying to check her vitals for the umpteenth time. The cuts on her arms had been attended to, bandaged and the hospital would do the rest to make sure she was fine.

Glancing towards Harm she found him getting a similar treatment on the opposite side of the room. The crews had bandaged his head and were now treating the cut above his brow along with a few lacerations on his arms and legs from the explosion. They were lucky, so damn lucky...

...Their exit strategy had gone to shit and the very second Harm and Mac tried to step outside of the guesthouse they were under fire. The two of them ducked hid behind a small stone wall that was used as a planter and situated in front of the guest house entrance. Harm secured both metal cases shoving them under a bush and then returning his attention to the guards.

"Where the hell are Webb's men?" Harm had asked, giving cover as Mac set charges along the wall of the guesthouse. The idea was to blow up most if not all of the building in hopes of escape - a concept that was much more appealing than getting shot.

"Late. It's just you and me, partner." Something about her statement gave him hope as did the way she pressed a reassuring hand to his forearm. "We'll make it."

They always did. "What about the cases?"

Mac followed his gaze to where the two metal cases were stashed. "Leave them...When I say 'Go' run as fast as you can, we won't have much time."

"Mac, I…" There were so many things he needed to tell her, words that he should have said years ago. If they made it out alive, Harm promised himself to tell her until she believed him. He never got past her name when she gave the order for them to move.

They each set off on a dead sprint until the wave from the cacophony of blasts behind them knocked Mac down. Harm threw himself over her, shielding her body with his own when burning chunks of wood and singed brick crashed around them…

...That was how Webb's team stumbled upon the officers. Mac with several scratches to her arms, pressing a dark cloth to Harm's head. He had been knocked out briefly and had a gash that would likely need stitches.

The team managed to nab Kuznetsov who was trying to escape once the commotion began. Cloutier too was taken in for questioning and the cases were recovered, the metal and padding protecting the articles inside. The team found the orange liquid inside the vials - catalyst for a neurotoxin that CSIS was developing and Cloutier had stolen.

Mac's mission was complete, finally and she breathed a sigh of relief. She had spent nearly two years playing spook and in that short time had grown weary. It was time to leave them in hopes of salvaging whatever was left of her soul. She knew there would be much to work on, parts of her that were fractured into disrepair. She needed to get help and find herse_lf ag_ain without agency intervention. She needed _him_. She _needed_ Harm.

He smiled when her gaze met his and Mac felt a warmth fill her and chip away the cold. She wanted to be with him, to feel his arms shelter her away from the outside world. He was the key to bringing her back and she needed him now more than ever. He was her lifeline.

Mac needed the peace that she felt when they were sheltered away together. The moments when the agency psychobabble had waned and nearly disappeared. She missed her best friend, the shared conversations over simple dinners. She missed the carefree weekends when they would play tourists in their own town.

All of that was taken away the moment he entered the brig and a distance neither could see coming spread between them. And then Paraguay. Mac closed her eyes tightly willing her mind to not conjure up memories of Clay's screaming. God, she hadn't thought of that hellhole at all or the PTSD she likely suffered - was probably still suffering - as a result.

Is that what caused her to push Harm away? To tell him her biggest lie? Mac liked to believe she was saving him from a terrorists wrath, from her own maligned alliance that almost got him killed. Thinking back now, she felt ashamed. When the days in captivity lengthened all she could think of was him.

In her mind, she was begging for him to come knowing deep inside he would be the only one who could save her. She was never so happy to see him standing at the door of that foul smelling shack in the middle of the Chaco. Her knight had saved them only things got messed up so fast.

Mac was horrible to him, obstinate and mean. Did she even thank him for saving her? No, she just pushed through, argued and became defensive when Harm tried to tell her how he felt in that Rabb way. "You know why." She did but wanted the words too. God, what a fool she'd been. A stupid, vulnerable woman that the agency took advantage of.

Webb had been the ticket to her emotional downfall. Kerhsaw had informed him of Harm's resignation, the fact that he would never be allowed back into JAG and the agency's position to hire Harm. They were beyond interested in the man, practically salivating at the potential new recruit with such wonderful talents. He was perfect, military folk always were when it came to orders.

Harm would do as told, without question despite that defining line where assignments went grey. And he would lose himself, that obsessive streak holding him like a vice until there was nothing left. So, Mac did the unthinkable and traded herself for him. Although she wasn't a pilot, she came with her own skill set that made her invaluable to them.

Her life for his. It was simple.

Break his heart and push him away. Equally easy.

The concept was kind of romantic.

Mac just never thought she'd lose herself so completely. She never saw the pit she'd fall in willingly - the mental manipulations that she had given into without a fight or considerations of after effects.

And still, he'd come for her and involved himself in a world she tried so hard to keep him out of. Because he loved her. And she needed out now before what was left of herself disappeared.

Mac looked at Harm again and a soft smile spread across her lips when his eyes met hers. They shared one of their silent conversations and her heart flip-flopped inside her chest a little. She only wished the blasted headaches would go away. They had dulled some but, the recesses of it were thumping away matching her heartbeat.

"Hey." Clay came into her line of sight, effectively blocking her view of Harm. She made to push him away, but his expression was troublesome. Seldom did he wear his feelings this openly. The man seemed to be impassive with just about everything, even the prospect of being tortured in Paraguay. "You did good. The backup has all of the info we need, it also tells us who else had copies of the Phonebook… Our people will be safe."

"Then why do you look like your dog just died?" Mac waved off any attempt to change the subject. "Spill it, Webb, what is it?"

He moved in closer and whispered four words she wasn't prepared to hear: "Sadik Fahd is alive."

Just like that, Mac's World spun off its axis and any inclination she had about leaving the CIA dissipated completely. She couldn't leave now especially when the very reason she joined the agency was alive and kicking. "You told me that the Agency would handle him. What the fuck happened?"

"They got the wrong guy."

"How can you be so nonchalant about this?"

"Because I'm terrified and it's my coping mechanism."

"He's coming for us." Mac stated the obvious.

"Yes he is."

She was able to gaze at Harm who was speaking to one of Webb's men oblivious that his life was now put in peril and it had been since he walked onto Sadik's compound. He had done it for her with no consideration of his own morality. And now Harm was in danger again to an extent that Mac wasn't sure of.

And that was the problem, Sadik knew who she and Webb were but had only gotten a glimpse of Harm. Would he even go after the Naval officer or know how to find him? The unsurety had her on edge just as it did when she agreed to join the brotherhood. What if Sadik had been following? What if he had seen them and known exactly who he was to her?

The idea made her feel scared and violated but then, that was exactly how Sadik operated. He studied his opponents and would strike when they least expected it. "This isn't over."

"We're taking a private jet back to Dulles in a couple of hours. I've taken the liberty of securing you a room at the Ritz in DC for a couple of days." At Mac's confused look. Webb shrugged, grinning sheepishly. "Consider it a thank you for raising me from the dead." He turned towards Harm and sighed. "I long since gave up on the idea that you and I would ever be together."

"We won't." She clarified with certainty. "But, I doubt he and I will be either." Harm was looking at her again, his eyes conveying what words never fully would. He loved her. He loved her and it was heartbreaking. "Not if Sadik is still out there."

"Harm is a big boy, he can take care of himself."

She didn't doubt that but, the nightmare plagued her. It had seemed so real and vivid to the point that Mac wondered if it was a premonition. Harm hadn't simply been taken by Sadik, they had been together, intimate. Her tormentor had called Harm her lover. He knew.

When she closed her eyes the vision of him tied to a chair, bruised, battered and barely breathing seemed too real. She could still feel the cool weighed metal of a gun being placed into her palm. 'Shoot him or I will continue to torture him.'

Why had she ever left for Paraguay? Why didn't Harm try harder to stop her? "He can take care of himself but, it's my fault he's in this mess to begin with."

"Don't even think about trying to find Sadik. We have people on it, Mac. He won't get away twice. Look, I told you as a warning so that you'd be more cautious."

"And I thank you for that Webb." She stood up from the chair she was seated at and stood when Harm made his way over to her. "Everything okay?"

Harm nodded, "They want to take me to the hospital. I need some stitches. Given I've had a concussion or two, they want to run a brain scan."

"Might be a good idea. Mr. Webb says we get a private flight to Dulles."

"And a few nights stay at the Ritz." Webb added the part that Mac conveniently left out - his invitation was for Harm as well. "You two deserve a little RR."

Harm eyed Mac who wouldn't look at him. Something was wrong, he could tell by the way her body shifted. He wanted to call her out on it, to probe into whatever conversation she'd had with Webb but thought better. "I have to get going, the medical crew is getting antsy."

"I'll see you there." Mac pressed a hand to his uninjured forearm and squeezed reassuringly. She watched as he was led to an ambulance and guided inside. As the doors closed, a voice, her voice spoke from the recesses of her mind as a tear slid down her cheek:

_'There will never be an us.'_


	20. Moondust

Please read the Authors Note at the bottom

Thank you for sticking this story out... I really enjoyed writing it. Fear not, I am a shipper at heart!

**CHAPTER 20 - MOONDUST**

_"I'm living far away, on the face of the moon_

_I've buried my love to give the world to you_

_The brightness of the sun, will give me just enough_

_To bury my love, in the Moondust_

_I long to hear your voice, but still I make the choice_

_To bury my love, in the moondust."_

-Moondust by: Jaymes Young

_"I love you, Sarah."_ Mac sat in the bathtub covered in water that had become lukewarm. The bubbles that had once surrounded her had faded and she could feel the chill on her skin. She looked at her fingers and the way that they had wrinkled, another sign that she had been in there way too long. _"I love you, Sarah."_

She covered her ears as if that would stop her from hearing his voice affirming his feelings for her. Mac had accused him of not being able to let go but, when he did, Harm was vehemently committed. She guessed it was why he couldn't let go years ago, he wasn't ready and she was too self conscious to realize he was asking her to wait.

Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes and ran her hands over her arms to find her skin covered with goosebumps as she recalled his touch. The Commander, _Harm_ could be slow and deliberate, fueling a desire that Mac had tried so hard to erase. He could also be hard and possessive which was equally intoxicating.

And he loved her.

With all of her faults and all of the ways she tried to hurt him, he still loved her.

Mac brushed away the tear that fell down her cheek and bit back the sob she needed to let out but wouldn't. Sleeping in bed, in the other room was the man that had professed his love for her over and over and over when they made love. And they had made love, there was no other way to describe a union that spoke more than words ever could.

They were staying in the lavish hotel in DC, every expense paid for by the agency for a few days. '_We need to talk.'_ Harm had said once he secured the door locks and closed the curtains.

But, Mac didn't let him speak. Instead, she pushed him into bed and covered his body with her own in an effort to stop him from asking questions she wouldn't answer - not wanting to lose more precious time. They fought for control, relented and he'd given into her but, Mac couldn't quite let go. Not then, not ever.

His lips were on her neck in that spot that Harm had discovered could cause a reaction, an involuntary moan Mac couldn't suppress. She'd heard his voice then,_ 'I love you, Sarah.'_ and a warm breath against her skin. And it hurt her in ways she couldn't really quantify.

Harm had said it again but she couldn't return the sentiment only pray that he would stop speaking. Their love making hadn't been gentle because Mac didn't want it that way. And then he told her again, this time his eyes holding her gaze so that she knew that when he joined their bodies it was for a purpose. _'I love you.'_

Harm loved her, unequivocally. It wasn't about the physical intimacy that had left her breathless and aching for his touch on her skin. No, Harm loved her - _all of her_ \- with every flaw and every scar. It was overwhelming and all encompassing, everything she ever wanted from him.

Harm loved her.

And she was leaving him.

It was a decision that was made after they last made love, after he'd told her again that he loved her, clearly desperate to hear the same sentiment in kind.

The Sarah MacKenzie that had loved Harmon Rabb Junior once was no longer part of her. Rather, Mac wouldn't let her be - it would make her too easy to wound, too vulnerable and if she were going after Sadik Fahd, she needed to be whole and strong.

There was also the last year and a half in the CIA that had made it way too easy to shut down her feelings to get things done. Harm had broken down those walls, shattered them with each touch of his hands on her skin. He was a liability as well, someone who would be in the crosshairs if an enemy were to discover her weakness. Mac wouldn't let him get hurt for her.

With a sigh, she came out of the water, wrapped herself in a fluffy robe and settled in front of the large vanity in the equally large bathroom. She pulled open a drawer and the piece of paper and a pen that she had stashed there once Mac had extricated herself from his arms. Squeezing her eyes shut, she ran over the words that were in her mind, a way to explain to him what she couldn't to herself.

Her hand shook as she took the pen and began writing. It took her a few tries to get through the words.

_Harm,_

_I wish I could stay. I wish I could find a way to make this right between us but, I can't._

_Let me go, I beg of you._

_I made a choice and have to live with the consequences - we both do._

_I'm much too broken to fix, please don't try._

_Let me go._

_I'm sorry._

_-Mac._

Studying the note, Mac found that she hadn't placed any term of endearment or a heartfelt closing. She ran her fingers over the words hoping he would heed them and knowing he likely wouldn't. At least the Agency could make her disappear and it would be impossible for him to find her.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, folded the note in two and scribbled his name on top leaving it on the vanity where he would see it.

It was a cowards way out, leaving while he was asleep but, Mac couldn't face him. Her feelings for Harm would keep her from leaving and she needed to do this. She had to finish what had begun in Paraguay and maybe then be free from it all. Quickly she dressed and stepped out of the bathroom to find him lying on his side, arm wrapped around the pillow that was now occupying her space. He was sleeping soundly, a small smile curved his lips that she could see from a sliver of light that escaped from behind the bathroom door.

Mac's heart clenched as the urge to slip into bed and beg him to stop her was almost overwhelming. She ached to be touched by him and have The Commander heal the parts of her that had been broken. Forcing herself to look away took a Herculean effort. She swallowed down the bile that had risen at her throat and tried to slow her heart from hammering so hard against her chest.

Quietly, she stepped out of the room, casting one last glance at the beautiful man sleeping on the bed. The man that was willing to give up everything for her. The man that she… "I'm sorry."

A final tear fell as she closed the door behind her and walked away. Mac couldn't admit to herself what she felt for him - she wouldn't.

The edges of a headache began drumming at her temples and she slipped effortlessly into the darkness within.

'_There Will Never Be An Us.'_

**THE END**.

**Previews From Into Emptiness 2 - Distance.**

"Clay, where am I?"

"My place." He ran a hand down her back in a seductive way that made her flinch. "My bed."

...

"Does he still come by your place?"

Mac shook her head. "He stopped over two months ago." Although she really didn't know why.

...

Harm's mouth that had been on hers had moved to a spot on her neck that offered a response. She would moan each time he kissed her there, a swirl over her pulsepoint from his tongue would make Mac shiver. Christ, he couldn't get enough of the taste of her skin.

...

"Harm, please. Don't do this to me." She was begging, hoping he would stop his words and leave her alone. Yet, Mac couldn't will herself to pull out of his grasp and her palms spread over his chest, feeling his own heart hammering underneath her palm.

...

The woman pressed a hand to Harm's forearm and he smiled brightly at the contact. She was dressed impeccably in designer clothing that made Mac feel unattractive and inadequate as a woman. That was the type of woman that he liked, wasn't it? Or else his relationship with Renee would not have lasted so long.

...

"Harm help me…. Please just help me…I don't wanna die and if I keep on like this I will. Please help me."

...

"How do you feel?"

"Alive." She saw a soft smile spread across his lips, his sleep laden eyes seemed almost grey in the morning light. "I love you."

...

AN: So, don't hate me too much.

I had this story outlined chapter by chapter but as it manifested itself, it went completely off the deep end.

First, the title was "Frozen" ( Which I did not use for obvious reasons.) based on a power ballad from Within Temptation where someone sacrifices their everything to protect/save someone they love.

I had the concept rolling in my head since I heard the song several years ago as a reason to why Mac gave Harm that "Never" comment - a concept that she felt inadequate, not good enough for him so the only way to push him away was to hurt him. I could never write a story around it.

When I finished Final Destination, I had the idea of Mac joining the CIA, never knowing it would be so much darker. Frozen was born along with the name change that came from lyrics "shattered pieces still remain when memories fade Into Emptiness".

Keeter was never meant to be bad. I just did not want him tagging along with Harm and Mac. Rather than give him some mundane assignment, he was killed off. Marx too was never meant to be bad.

Originally, they were gonna stay together, Mac would come back to JAG after some therapy. She would have residual issues but they would work it out. But, I didn't want another cookie cutter ending.

I started getting towards the love scene and how dark Mac had become, I didn't think them getting a happily ever after was in the cards - at least not in this story and then one day "Moondust" popped up as a suggestion on Spotify and I wrote the ending while Harm and Mac were still on the houseboat canoodling.

Fret not, dear readers… There is a part two…Harm and Mac will meet again. It would be messy, it would be full of angst but they would work it out… together.

I have some sweet scenes between them...And when they meet again… well I LOVE that scene..

We'll start posting soonish. _


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